


K' 









ii^^'i^i' 








/•' 



Glass. 
Book. 



PRESENTED BY 



COURSE 

OF 

ELEMENTARY READING 

IN 

SCIENCE AND LITEKATURE. 

COMPILED FBOil 

POPULAR WRITERS; 

TO "WHICH IS ADDED, 

^ ttnpiaus fiBl of Hjt fatin ani ©reek |)rimitioe5 

WHICH ENTER INTO THE COMPOSITION OP 
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 



By J. M. M'CULLOCH, D.D., 

F .erly Head-Master of Circus-Place School, Edinburgh ; 

Author A Manual of English Grammar, Philosophical and Practical," 
*' A Series o^ Lessons in Prose and Verse, progressively arranged," &c. 



ILLUSTBATED BY FOIITY WOOD-CUTS. 



THIRTY-FIRST EDITION. 



EDINBUEGH : 
OLIVER & BOYD, TWEEDDALE COURT. 

LONDON : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO. 

1857. 



[Price Three ShillingB bouDd.] 






DE M'CULLOCH'S EDUCATIONAL WORKS. 



FIRST READING-BOOK, 18mo, stifif wrapper, l^d. 

SECOND READING-BOOK, 18mo, stiff wrapper, 3cl. 

THIRD READING-BOOK, 18mo, bound, lOd. 

SERIES of LESSONS in Prose and Verse, 12mo, bound, 2s. 

COURSE of READING in Science and Literature, 12mo, bound, 33. 

MANUAL of ENGLISH GRAMMAR, ISmo, bound. Is. 6d. 

PREFIXES & AFFIXES of the English Language, ISmo, wrapper, 2d. 

GIFT 
BERTRAM SMITH 



DEC 8 1933 



idinburgh : printed by oliver and boyd, 
tweeddalb court. 



i 



PEEFACE 

TO THE SEVENTH EDITION. 



In submitting to the public a Seventh Edition of his 

se of Reading," the Author is happy to think, that 

> longer necessary to preface it with any formal 

^ for the peculiar and somewhat novel character of 

oCnts. The sale of six large impressions in a few 

.^ affords a pleasing evidence that he was not mis- 

Jsf : u supposing that a series of progressive lessons 

1 knowledge would, in an inquiring age like the 

be deemed a more valuable contribution to Edu- 

han any mere selection, however excellent, of ele- 

^, ..^d rhetorical readings. Nor has he less reason to 

be gratified with the favour awarded to the chief novelty 
of the work, the attempt to supply a List of the Prin- 
cipal Latin and Greek Roots which enter into the com- 
position of the English language. The numerous imi- 
tations of this List which have subsequently appeared in 
the shape of Helps to English Etymology, &c., are so 
many proofs, that the plan of assisting the young Scholar 
to a knowledge of his mother tongue, by giving him 
fiome previous acquaintance with its leading Roots, only 



IV PREFACE. 

required to be suggested in order to command general 
approbation. And the only subject of surprise is, that a 
plan of instruction should have been so long overlooked, 
which promises more eflfectually than any other to ensure 
to all pupils those facilities for acquiring a thorough ac- 
quaintance with the force and meaning of their native 
language, which used to be the exclusive possession of 
the Students of classical learning. 

The present will be found in all respects more avail- 
able to the purposes of tuition than any former Edition. 
Not only has the Work throughout, — including the List 
of Prefixes, Affixes, and Roots, in the Appendix, — been 
carefully revised; but, to ensure the greatest possible 
correctness, the whole of the scientific Lessons have been 
submitted to the revision of gentlemen eminent for their 
attainments in science : And it will probably be consid- 
ered a sufficient presumption of philosophical accuracy, 
that they have received the corrections of Dr Greville, in 
the Botanical part ; of Mr James Wilson, in the Zoolo- 
gical part ; and of Dr Fyfe, Mr Trotter, and Mr Lees, 
in the Chemical, Geographical, and Physical departments 
respectively. An additional improvement, — introduced 
for the first time in the present impression, and fitted, it 
is hoped, to render the whole at once more useful and 
more attractive, — is a Series of Diagrams and other Pic- 
torial Embellishments, illustrative of such parts of the 
text as may not be adequately understood without the 
help of delineations addressed to the eye. 

To the Writers whose names are appended to the 
various Lessons, some apology is perhaps due for the 
liberties which have been occasionally taken in abridg- 
ing, simplifying, and otherwise altering their productions ; 



PREFACE. T 

yet, as the changes in question have been made solely for 
the purpose either of adapting the selections to the prac- 
tical business of education, or of bringing their statements 
into more strict accordance with recent discoveries of 
science, it is hoped that they are only such as the Au- 
thors themselves would have introduced had their design 
been to supply a Manual of Elementary Reading. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 
Exercises on the Inflections of the Voice, Cqmjpiled xiii 

I. PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 

On the Pleasures of Science, Brouglmm 1 

General Properties of Bodies — Impenetrability, 

Extension, Figure, Divisibility, Inertia, Mrs Marcet 16 

Attraction of Cohesion and Attraction of Gravity, Id. 35 

First Lines of Mechanics, Mitclidl 109 

Motion, Id. 109 

Momentum, Id. 109 

Centre of Gravity, Id. Ill 

The Mechanical Powers, Compiled 138 

Pressure of Watery Fluids, Lib. of Useful Knowledge 140 

Capillary Attraction, Id. 147 

Daily Revolution of the Celestial Sphere, Compiled 162 

Mechanical Properties of Air, Id. 172 

The Winds, Id. 240 

Aqueous Vapour, Id. 249 

Clouds and Mists, Id. 249 

Rain, Id. 250 

Dew, Id. 251 

Snow, Id. 252 

Hail, Id. 252 

First Lines of Optics — Properties of Light, Reflection, Refrac- 
tion, Colour, the Rainbow, , Comjgiled 276 

Motions of the Earth, Moon, and Planets, Id. 286 

Wonders of Vision, Dich 294 

The Quantity of Matter in the Universe, Id. 313 



II. CHEMICAL SCIENCE. 

Properties of Free Caloric — Radiation — Conductors, Compiled 72 

Chemical Attraction, Mrs Marcet 86 

Simple Bodies, Chemical Becreations 101 

Oxygen, Id. 102 

Hydrogen, .> Id. 103 

Nitrogen, Id. 104 

Carbon, Id. 106 



VIU CONTENTS. 

Page 

Sulphur, CJiemical BecreaUons 105 

Phosphorus, Id. 106 

The Metals, Id. 106 

CJompound Bodies, Compiled 186 

Atmospheric Air, Id. 186 

Water, Id. 188 

Effects of Caloric, Turmr 207 

Expansion, Id. 207 

Liquefaction, Id. 209 

Yaporization — Ebullition, Evaporation, Id. 210 

Compound Bodies continued, Compiled 258 

Chemical Nomenclature [Note]^ Id. 258 

Alkalies, Id. 259 

Earths, Id. 260 

Acids, Id. 261 

Compound Bodies continued, Id. 305 

Alloys, » Turner 305 

Salts, Ccmpiled 307 



III. NATURAL HISTORY. 

The Three Kingdoms of Nature, Compiled 4 

Minerals, Id. 4 

Vegetables, Id. 5 

Animals, Id. 7 

Minerals, Id. 29 

Diamond, Id. 29 

Flint, Id. 30 

Asbestos, Id. 30 

Clay-slate, Id. 30 

Common Mica, Id. 31 

Lime, Id. 32 

Alabaster, Id. 32 

Nitre, Id. 33 

Coal, Id. 33 

The Malleable Metals, Bingley 49 

Platina, Id. 49 

Gold, Id. 50 

Mercury, Id. 52 

Silver, Id. 53 

Copper, Id. 54 

Iron — Cast-iron, Wrought-iron, Steel, Id. 55 

Tin— Tin-plate, Id. 57 

Lead— Shot, Id. 59 

Clothing from Animals — Fur, Wool, Silk, Leather, Dr AiUn 77 



CONTENTS. IX 

Vegetable Physiology, Compiled 126 

Motion of the Sap, Sir J. E. Smith 127 

Leaves, CompiUd 128 

The Seed, Id. 130 

Germination, Dr 0. Gregory 132 

Adaptation of Plants to their Situations, Comjdled 133 

Circulation of the Blood, Mrs Hack 195 

Vegetable Clothing— Flax, Hemp, and Cotton, Dr AiTcin 221 

The Process of Nutrition, Compiled 227 

The Animal Economy — Mammalia, Birds, Id. 272 

The Animal Economy continued — Fishes, Insects, Id. 301 

Mutual Dependence of the Functions of Animals, Id. 312 



lY. GEOGRAPHY AND TOPOGRAPHY. 

Proofs of the Eotundity of the Earth, Malte-Brun 10 

European Scenes, 62 

A Winter Landscape in Russia, Sir B. K, Porter 62 

Moscow, Dr E. D. Clarle 63 

Mount Etna, Clarice's Wonders 64 

Sparta, Chateaubriaiid 70 

Grecian Scenery, Dr E. D. ClarJce 71 

Land and Water, Compiled 112 

The Ocean, DicJc 113 

Mountains, Id. 115 

Palestine, Conder 143 

Springs, Compiled 156 

Eivers, Id. 157 

Lakes Id. 159 

Jerusalem, Conder 167 

A Voyage round the World (in Verse) , Montgomery 231 

Egyptian Antiquities, 235 

The Pyi^amids, Dr. E. D. ClarU 235 

Pompey's Pillar, Scra^ Book 236 

Mummy Pits, Belzoni 237 



V. RELIGIOUS AND MORAL PIECES. 

What is the Use we make of the Scriptures? Koel 14 

Infidelity, Thomson 23 

On the tlireatened Invasion in 1803, Halt 24 

Claims of the Jews, Noel 26 

How it strikes a Stranger, Jane Taylor 42 

Sufferings of the Early Christians, Mrs Hack 118 

a2 



X CONTENTS. 

Page 
A Change of Character as necessary as a Change of State, .. .i?M5seZZ 153 

Prophecy, Gompiled 181 

What a Change! Leisure Hours 192 

Miracles, Gompiled 204 

The Death of Christ, Brown 283 

The Malignity of Sin, Id. 285 



VI. MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 

The Figures of Speech, 92 

Metaphor, Comparison, Allegory, 93 

Irony, Hyperbole, and Interrogation, 94 

Antithesis and Climax, 96 

Ellipsis and Pleonasm, 97 

Personification, 99 

Apostrophe, 99 

Exclamation, 99 

Vision, 100 

Character of the late Rev. Dr Hardie of Ashkirk, Lundie 137 

The Old Philosopher and the Young Lady, Jane Taylor 175 

Thirty Years Ago, Montgomery 179 

Rhetorical Extracts, 199 

James Watt, Sir Walter Scott 199 

Enviable Situation of Britain, 3PDiarmid 199 

Universal Emancipation, Gurran 200 

War, Ghalmers 200 

Folly of Delay in our Religious Concerns, Foster'202 

Defence of the Scottish Martyrs, Thomson 203 

Optical Instruments — Telescope, Microscope, Gompiled 243 

The British Constitution,.... Johnstone's Gollection 255 

Wonders of Civilisation, Arnott 263 

Division of Labour, Adam Smith 264 

Complaint of the Dying Year, Jane Taylor 267 

The Art of Printing, Compiled 296 

The Mariner's Compass, Id. 297 



VII. POETRY. 

To the Sundial, Barton 8 

The Ministry of Angels, Spenser 12 

The Incarnation, Milman 12 

The Power of God Moore 16 

On the Downfal of Poland, Gampbell 22 

Warnsong of the Greeks, Barry Gomwall 28 



CONTENTS. 



The Burial of Sir John Moore, Wolfe 35 

Song of the Greek Bard, Byron 46 

Detached Selections from Shakspeare, 60 

The Alps, Rogers 66 

Thunder- Storm among the Alps, Bymn 68 

Pompeii, Lyncal Gems 68 

Greece, Byron 69 

A Dirge, Qroly 76 

Verses written in the Churchyard of Eichmond, H. Enoioles 85 

Ancient Song of Victory, Mrs Hemans 91 

The First Sabbath, Milton 107 

The Covenanters, Grdhame 117 

Home, Montgomery 124 

Hymn of the Hebrew Maid, Sir Walter Scott 146 

The Temple of Fame, Po])e 149 

The Treasures of the Deep, Mrs Hemans 160 

The Cataract of Velino, Byron 161 

Jerusalem, Moore 111 

The Knight of Arts and Industry, Thomson 177 

The Voice of Spring, Mrs Hemans 180 

The Day of Judgment, Heher 185 

The same Subject,.... Milraan 185 

The same Subject, C. Wesley 186 

Graves of the Poor, Gray 191 

Christian Missions, Original 194 

The same Subject, Heher 194 

A Moonlight Night at Venice, Byron 197 

Jerusalem before the Siege, Milman 201 

Love of Country, Sir Walter Scott 204 

The Saxon and the Gael — The Interview, Id. 214 

The Saxon and the Gael continued — The Combat, Id. 218 

Negro Slavery, Cowjjer 225 

The same Subject, Montgomery 226 

The same Subject, C. H. T. 226 

A Voyage roimd the World, Montgomery 231 

Address to the Mummy in Belzoni's Exhibition, Horace Smith 238 

Human Life, Rogers 246 

Sabbath Morning, Grahame 246 

Vespers, Ifrs Hemans 247 

Affliction, Southey 248 

The Hour of Death, Mrs Hemans 248 

Aspirations of Youth, Montgomery 254 

The Better Land, Mrs Hemans 254 

The Graves of a Household, Id. 266 



xii CONTENTS. 

Page 

Address to a Steam-Boat, Joanna BaUlie 268 

The Assault, Bijron 270 

The Cast-away Ship, Montgomery 281 

The Love of Christ, Dale 286 

Redemption, Cowper 291 

Voltaire and the Cottager contrasted, Id. 291 

God maintains the Order of Natm-e, Id. 292 

The Intellectual System of Education recommended, Id. 293 

On an Ink-Bottle almost dried in the Sun, Id. 294 

The English in Portugal, Sir Walter Scott 299 

The Destruction of Sennacherib, Byron 300 

From the Persian of Hafiz, Sir W. Jones 308 

Weakness a Claim on our Protection, Kehle 308 

The Battle of the Baltic, Campbell 309 

The Battle of Alhuera, Byron 309 

The Man of the World, Southey 310 

The Sound of the Sea, Mrs Semans 310 

A Ship Foundering, Byron 311 

Happiness, BolloTc 311 



APPENDIX. 



Prefixes, Affixes, and Principal Latin and Greek Eoots of the 
English Language, 317 

Illustrative Woodcuts, with Explanations, 339 



EXERCISES 



INFLECTIONS OF THE VOICE. 



The voice, in reading, has two essential turns or inflections, the 
rising and the falling. The rising inflection is that upward turn 
of the voice which we generally use in asking a question beginning 
with a verb, and is marked with the acute accent (' ). The falling 
inflection is that downward sliding of the voice which is commonly- 
used at the end of a sentence, and is designated by the grave 
accent (^). These two inflections have been justly described as 
the axis on which the force, variety, and harmony of speaking 
turn, and they therefore cannot be too fully exemplified to the 
pupil. 

EXAMPLES. 

The Bising followed hy the FaUing. 

Does he talk rationally', or iiTationally^ ? 
Does he pronounce correctly', or incorrectly^ ? 
Does he mean honestly', or dishonestly^? 
Does she dance gracefully', or ungracefully^ ? 
Do they act cautiously', or incautiously^ ? 
Should we say humour', or humour^ ? 
Should we say altar', or altar^ ? 
Should we say amber', or amber^ ? 
Should we say airy', or airy^ ? 
Should we say eager', or eager^ ? 
Should we say ocean', or ocean^ ? 
Should we say oozy', or oozy^ ? 
Should we say empty', or empty^ ? 

The FaUing followed hy the Rising, 

He talks rationally^, not irrationally'. 
He pronounces correctly^, not incorrectly'. 
He means honestly\ not dishonestly'. 
She dances gracefully\ not ungracefully'. 
They acted cautiously^, not incautiously'. 
We should say humbur^, not humour'. 
We should say altar\ not altar'. 
We should say amber^, not amber'. 



XIV EXERCISES ON INFLECTIONS. 

We should say airy^, not airy'. 
We should say eager^, not eager'. 
We should say ocean^, not ocean'. 
We should say oozy^, not oozy'. 
We should say empty\ not empty'. 

A great number of rules are given by Mr Walker and his fol- 
lowers for the inflecting of sentences or parts of sentences ; but the 
following comprise all that are essential : — 



I. AFFIRMATIVE SENTENCES. 

1. ^Tiere the sense is complete, whether it be at the termination 
of a sentence or of a clause of a sentence, use the falling inflection. 

2. In negative sentences, on the contrary, or negative members 
of sentences, use the rising inflection. 

3. When sentences are divisible into two parts, the commencing 
part is distinguished by the rising inflection. 



EXAMPLES. 

1. It is to the unaccountable oblivion of our mortality, that the 
world owes all its fascination^. 

Age, in a virtuous person, carries with it an authority, which 
makes it preferable to all the pleasures of youth^. 

Every desire, however innocent or natural, grows dangerous, as, 
by long indulgence, it becomes ascendant^ in the mind. 

You may lay it down as a maxim, confirmed by universal ex- 
perience, that every man dies as he lives^ ; and it is by the general 
tenor of the life, not a particular frame of mind at the hour of 
death, that we are to be judged at the tribunal of God. 



2. The religion of the gospel is not a gloom'y religion. 

I cannot, I will not join in congratulation on misfortune and 
disgrace'. 

Greatness confers no exemption from the cares and sorrows of 
huma'nity. 

It is not enough that you continue steadfast and immovable' — 
you must also abound in the work of the Lord, if you expect your 
labours to be crowned with success. 



3. If to do loere as easy as to hnow what loere fjood' to do — chapels 
had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. 

While dangers are at a distance^ and do not immediately' approach 
us — let us not conclude that we are secure, unless we use the nec- 
essary precautions against them. 

As the beauty of the body alivays accompanies the health' of it — so 
is decency of behaviour a concomitant to virtue. 



EXERCISES ON INFLECTIONS. XV 

No man can rise above the infirmities of nature^ unless assisted 
by God. 

' Your enemies may he fiyrmidahle hy their numhers^ and hy their 
pou'er\ but He Tvho is with you is iniglitier than they. 

Virtue ivere a kind of misery — if fame were all the garland that 
crowned her. 

To all the charms of beauty, and the utmost elegance of external 
form\ Mary added those accomplishments which render their im- 
pression irresistible. 

The only exception to these rules worthy of notice occurs in 
the case of antithetical sentences. When the commencing mem- 
ber of an antithesis requires the relative emphasis, or is opposed 
in the concluding member by a negation, the latter has the rising, 
and the former the falling inflection — as in the following ex- 
amples : — 

We have taken up arms to defend^ our country, not to betray it'. 

The duty of a soldier is to obey\ not to direct his general'. 



II. INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. 

1. Questions asked by pronouns generally end with the falling 
inflection. 

2. Questions asked by verbs generally require the rising in- 
flection. 

3. When the question aflects two objects, taken disjunctively^ the 
former has the rising, and the latter the falling inflection. 

EXAMPLES. 

1. Wliat Q\il can come nigh to him for whom Jesus^ died? 

2. Shall dust and ashes stand in the presence of that uncreated 
glory, before which principalities and powers bow doT^^l, tremble, 
and adore' ? Shall guilty and condemned creatures appear m the 
presence of Him, in whose sight the heavens are not clean, and 
who chargeth his angels with folly' ? 

3. Are you toiling for fame', or for fortune^? 

(1.) Who are the persons that are most apt to fall into peevish- 
ness and dejection^? that are continually complaining of the world, 
and see nothing but wretchedness^ around them? (3.) Are they 
the affluent' or the indigent^? (2.) Are they those whose wants 
are administered to by a hundred hands besides their own' ? who 
have only to Avish and to have'? — Let the minion of fortune 
answer you. (2.) Are they those whom want compels to toil for 
then' daily meal and nightly pillow' — who have no treasure, but 
the sweat of their brows' — who rise with the rising sun, to expose 
themselves to all the rigours of the seasons, unsheltered from the 
winter* s cold, and unshaded from the summer's heat' ? No ! the 
labours of such are the very blessings of their condition. 



XVI EXERCISES ON INFLECTIONS. 



III. PARENTHESIS. 



The general rule for the parenthesis is, that it must be pronounced 
in a lower tone and more rapidly than the rest of the sentence, and 
conclude with the inflection that immediately precedes it. A simile, 
being a species of parenthesis, follows the same rule. 

EXAMPLES. 

Notwithstanding all this care of Cicero, history informs us that 
Marcus proved a mere blockhead ; and that na'ture (who, it seems, 
was even with the son for her prodigality to the fa'ther) rendered 
him incapable of improving, by all the rules of ePoquence, the 
precepts of philos^ophy, his own endeav^ours, and the most reiined 
conversation in Ath^ens. 

Then went the captain with the officers, and brought them with- 
out vi^olence (for they feared the people, lest they should have 
been stoned^) ; and when they had brought them, they set them 
before the council. 



IV. ECHO. 



The title Echo, Mr Walker has adopted to express a repetition of 
a word or phrase. The echoing word is pronounced with the 
rising inflection, and a considerable pause after it. 

EXAMPLE. 

Newton was a Christian ! Newton I whose mind burst forth 
from the fetters cast by nature on our finite conceptions — Nev/ton! 
whose science was truth, and the foundation of whose knowledge 
of it was philosophy ; not those visionary and arrogant presumptions 
which too often usurp its name, but philosophy resting on the 
basis of mathematics, which, like figures, cannot lie — New' ton! 
who carried the line and rule to the utmost barriers of creation, 
and explored the principles by which, no doubt, all created matter 
is held together and exists. 



A COUESE 



ELEMENTARY READING 



SCIENCE AND LITEEATUEE. 



SECTION I. 



ON THE PLEASURES OF SCIENCE. 

To pass our time in the study of the sciences has, in all 
ages, been reckoned one of the most dignified and happy 
of human occupations, and the name of Philosopher, or 
Lover of Wisdom, is given to those who lead such a life. 
But it is by no means necessary that a man should do 
nothing else than study known truths, and explore new, 
in order to earn this high title. Some of the greatest 
philosophers, in . all ages, have been engaged in the pur- 
suits of active life ; and he who, in whatever station his 
lot may be cast, prefers the refined and elevating pleas- 
ures of knowledge to the low gratification of the senses, 
richly deserves the name of a Philosopher. 

It is easy to show, that there is a positive gratification 
resulting from the study of the sciences. If it be a pleas- 
ure to gratify curiosity — to know what we were ignorant 
of — ^to have our feelings of wonder called forth, how pure 
a delight of this very kind does natural science hold out 
to its students ! Recollect some of the extraordinary dis- 



2 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I. 

coveries of meclianical philosophy. Is there anything 
in all the idle books of tales and horrors, with which 
youthful readers are so much delighted, more truly aston- 
ishing, than the fact, that a few pounds of water may, 
without any machinery, by merely being placed in a par- 
ticular way, produce an irresistible force ? What can be 
more strange, than that an ounce weight should balance 
hundreds of pounds, by the intervention of a few bars of 
thin iron? — Observe the extraordinary truths which op- 
tical science discloses ! Can anything surprise us more, 
than to find that the colour of white is a mixture of all 
others; that red, and blue, and green, and all the rest, 
merely by being blended in certain proportions, form 
what we had fancied rather to be no colour at all than 
all colours together? — Chemistry is not behind in its 
wonders. That the diamond should be made of the same 
material with coal; that water should be chiefly com- 
posed of an inflammable substance ; that acids should be 
almost all formed of diff'erent kinds of air ; and that one 
of those acids whose strength can dissolve almost any of 
the metals, should be made of the self-same ingredients 
with the common air we breathe ; these surely, are things 
to excite the wonder of any reflecting mind — nay, of any 
one but little accustomed to reflect. — And yet these are 
trifling when compared to the prodigies which astronomy 
opens to our view : the enormous masses of the heavenly 
bodies; their immense distances; their countless num- 
bers, and their motions, whose swiftness mocks the utter- 
most efforts of the imagination. 

Akin to this pleasure of contemplating new and ex- 
traordinary truths, is the gratification of a more learned 
curiosity, by tracing resemblances and relations between 
things which, to common apprehension, seem widely dif- 
ferent. It is surely a satisfaction, for instance, to know 
that the same thing which causes the sensation of heat 
causes also fluidity; that electricity, the light which is 
seen on the back of a cat when slightly rubbed on a frosty 
evening, is the very same matter with the lightning of 
the clouds : that plants breathe like ourselves, but differ- 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 3 

ently, by day and by nigbt ; that the air which burns in 
our lamps enables a balloon to mount. Nothing can at 
first sight appear less like, or less likely to be caused by 
the same thing, than the processes of burning and of 
breathing, — the rust of metals and burning, — the influ- 
ence of a plant on the air it grows in by night, and of an 
animal on the same air at any time, nay, and of a body 
burning in that air ; and yet all these operations, so un- 
like to common eyes, when examined by the light of 
science, are the same. Nothing can be less like than the 
working of a vast steam-engine and the crawling of a fly 
upon the window ; yet we find that these two operations 
are performed by the same means — the weight of the 
atmosphere ; and that a seahorse climbs the ice-hills by 
no other power. Can anything be more strange to con- 
template ? Is there, in all the fahy-tales that ever were 
fancied, anything more calculated to arrest the attention, 
and to occupy and to gratify the mind, than this most 
unexpected resemblance between things so unlike to the 
eyes of ordinary beholders ? Then, if we raise our views 
to the structure of the heavens, we are again gratified 
with tracing accurate but most unexpected resemblances. 
Is it not in the highest degree interesting to find, that 
the power which keeps the earth in its shape and in its 
path, wheeling round the sun, extends over aU the other 
worlds that compose the universe, and gives to each its 
proper place and motion ; that the same power keeps the 
moon in her path round the earth ; that the same power 
causes the tides upon our earth, and the peculiar form of 
the earth itself; and that, after all, it is the same power 
which makes a stone fall to the ground ? To leam these 
things, and to reflect upon them, fills the mind, and pro- 
duces certain as well as pure gratification. 

The highest of all our gratifications in the study of 
science remains. We are raised by science to an under- 
standing of the infinite wisdom and goodness which the 
Creator has displayed in ^11 his works. Not a step can 
we take in any direction without perceiving the most ex- 
traordinaiy traces of design; and the skill everywhere 



4 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. L 

conspicuous Is calculated in so vast a proportion of in- 
stances to promote the happiness of living creatures, and 
especially of ourselves, that we can feel no hesitation in 
concluding, that if we knew the whole scheme of Provi- 
dence, every part would appear to be in hannony with a 
plan of absolute benevolence. Independently, however, 
of this most consoling inference, the delight is inexpres- 
sible of being able to follow, as it were, with our eyes, the 
marvellous works of the great Architect of Nature, and 
to trace the unbounded power and exquisite skill which 
are exhibited in the most minute as well as in the mightiest 
parts of his system. Brougham. 



THE THREE KINGDOMS OF NATURE. 

Natural objects have been in general arranged, for the 
purpose of classification, under the three grand divisions 
of minerals^ vegetables^ and animals. Minerals are nat- 
ural bodies destitute of organization and life ; vegetables 
or plants are natural bodies endowed with organization 
and life, but destitute of voluntary motion and sensation ; 
and animals are natural bodies which possess organization, 
life, sensation, and voluntary motion. 

1. Minerals. — If we penetrate beneath the surface of the 
earth, we discover there a remarkable arrangement. In- 
stead of a generally uniform appearance, as we see on the 
surface, we pass through divers substances, as clay, gravel, 
sand, &c., deposited in beds or strata of various thickness, 
from a few inches to a great many feet. These lie, for the 
most part, nearly horizontal ; but in some instances, partic- 
ularly in mountainous countries, they take different degrees 
of inclination ; and in places where the country consists of 
gently sloping hills and vales, the beds have a waving or 
bending form. — [See Illustrations^ Fig. 1.) 

These strata, as deep as the curiosity or the necessities 
of mankind have induced them to explore, satisfactorily 
demonstrate the wisdom which has been displayed in the 
arrangement of materials requisite for the use of men and 
animals. The first layer is frequently a rich black mould, 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. O 

formed almost wholly of decomposed animal and vegetable 
remains : this yields sustenance to the vegetable produc- 
tions, and thereby becomes the actual, though not the im- 
mediate, support of the whole animal creation. Beneath 
this is often found a thick bed of clay, that furnishes to man 
a substance of which to make bricks, tiles, various kinds of 
pottery, and innumerable other articles for the comfort 
of social life. Next are deposited vast beds of gi'avel, 
that are of use in numerous points of view. Underneath 
this are the infinitely varying strata of sandstone, lime- 
stone, &c., which not only serve for the construction of 
buildings, and for other important purposes, but also fre- 
quently surround mines, which contain the valuable met- 
als. Beneath a slaty stratum are usually discovered 
those immense beds of coal so requisite for the comfort, 
and, in some situations, even for the existence of man. 
These sti'ata, it is true, are not always found together, 
nor are they always discovered in the same order; but 
the statement will suffice to show the general nature of 
their arrangement. 

The most simple and natural division of minerals is 
into four classes, — stones, salts, combustibles, and metals. 
Stones are subdivided into earthy and saline ; and met- 
als into malleable and brittle, 

2. Vegetables, — The principal parts of plants are the 
root ; the herb, tree, or plant itself; and the fructijica' 
tion, or flower and fruit. 

The roots of plants and trees, having nothmg pleasing 
to the eye, are, for the most part, hidden from the 
view; they are nevertheless of great importance in the 
vegetable economy; they are furnished with a set of 
vessels by means of which they di'aw moisture from the 
earth ; and they fix the plant in the spot it is designed 
to occupy. They are of various kinds, and have difi*erent 
periods of duration ; and they are frequently observed to 
compensate, in an extraordinary manner, for local incon- 
veniences, — changing thein direction, for instance, when 
they meet with a stone ; turning aside from barren into 
fertile ground ; and when stationed on the rocky edge of 



6 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. T. 

a deep ditch, creeping down one side and ascending the 
other, so as to place themselves in richer soil. 

The plant itself consists of cellular tissue and vessels 
curiously arranged, and adapted for performing all the 
functions of vegetable life. First of all is the hark^ 
covered externally with the cuticle^ which invests every 
part of a living plant, and varies in texture from the film 
which encloses the delicate petal of a flower, to the rough 
coating of a prickly aloe. The cuticle is furnished in 
many parts with pores, by which a communication is kept 
up between the internal structure and the atmosphere. 
To the cuticle succeeds the cellular integument, often of 
a green colour ; and in the trunks of ordinary trees we 
next find the cortical layers and the liber, which forms 
the innermost boundary of the bark. Lastly, the wood 
is observed, which sometimes contains within it the pith, 
respecting the use of which philosophers are not agreed. 
The wood itself is divided into two parts, — the true wood 
and the alburnum; the latter is the new wood, — that which 
has been recently deposited, and is softer and of a paler 
colour. The annual depositions of woody matter produce 
the concentric circles, which not only contribute to the 
beauty of the woody surface^ but furnish means by which 
the age of timber may be calculated. The sap-vessels 
ascend from the points of the roots, through the super- 
ficial alburnum, and enter the leaves in a circular ar- 
rangement round the pith. The fluid destined to 
nourish a plant, being absorbed in the root, becomes 
sap, and is earned up by these vessels into the leaves, 
where it undergoes a wonderful chemical change, and is 
brought back, through another set of vessels, down the 
leaf-stalks into the liber, where it is supposed to deposit 
the principal secretions of the tree. Thus, to the bark 
of the oak, a tanning principle is communicated ; — ^to the 
Peruvian bark, what has been found so beneficial in fe- 
vers; — to the cinnamon, its grateful aromatic taste; — 
to the sandal- wood, its never-dying fragrance, so beauti- 
fully noticed in an Aga couplet, which pronounces the 
duty of a good man to consist, not only in pardoning, but 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 7 

also in benefiting his enemies, as the sandal-tree, at the 
moment of its overthrow, sheds the sweetest perfume on 
the axe that fells it. 

The parts of fructification are, the calyx^ corolla^ sta- 
mens^ pistils, seed-vessel, seeds, and receptacle. The ca- 
lyx, or flower-cnp, is the green part which is situated 
immediately beneath the blossom ; the corolla, or blossom, 
is that coloured part of the flower, on which its beauty 
principally depends, and the leaves that compose it are 
denominated petals. The stamens and pistils are in the 
centre of the flower, and are the organs on which the fruc- 
tification and reproduction of the plant more particularly 
depend. The former surround the latter, and consist each 
of a filament or thread, and an anther or summit ; which 
last, when ripe, contains a fine powder called pollen. At 
the foot of the pistil is situated the germen ; this, when 
grown to matuiity, has the name of pericarp, or seed- 
vessel, and is that part of the fructification which contains 
the seeds — whether it be a capsule as in the poppy, a nut 
as in the filbert, a herry as in the gooseberiy, a pod as in 
the pea, or a cone as in the fir-tree. The seed is so well 
known as to require no description ; and the receptacle is 
the base which connects all the parts of fructification to- 
geither, and on which they are seated ; as, for example, the 
eatable part of the artichoke. — [See Illustrations, Fig, 2.) 

3. Animals, — The objects comprehended within the 
animal kingdom are divided into six classes, — Mammalia^ 
or mammiferous animals; Birds ; Amphibia, or amphib- 
ious animals, including all reptiles; Fishes; Insects; 
and Worms, The class Mammalia consists of such ani- 
mals as produce liviyig offspring, and nourish their young 
ones with milk supplied from their bodies ; and it com- 
prises quadrupeds, bats, seals, and whales. The class 
Birds comprises all such animals as have their bodies 
clad with feathers. Under the third class, or Amphibia^ 
are an-anged such animals as have a cold and generally 
naked body. They respire, chiefly by lungs, but they 
have the power of suspending respiration for a long 
time ; they are extremely tenacious of life, and can repair 



8 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. T. 

certain parts of their bodies which have been lost ; they 
are also able to endure hunger, sometimes even for months, 
without injury. Fishes constitute the fourth class of 
animals ; they are all inhabitants of the water, in which 
they move by certain organs called ^W5 ; they breathe by 
gills. Insects are so denominated, from the apparent 
divisions of their bodies, as if they were intersected or 
cut into parts. They have three principal parts, — ^the 
head^ the thorax^ and the abdomen. They have in gen- 
eral six or more legs, besides wings, and antennce^ or in- 
struments of touch ; and they nearly all go through certain 
great changes at different periods of their existence. The 
sixth and last class of animals consists of Worms or Vermes, 
which are slow of motion, and have soft and fleshy bodies. 
These animals are principally distinguished from those of 
the other classes, by having tentacula or feelers. 

Such are the three kingdoms of nature, and their prin- 
cipal divisions according to the system of Linnaeus, a dis- 
tinguished naturalist of Sweden, who flourished about the 
middle of the eighteenth century. These kingdoms, though 
distinct, are mutually connected ; and it is not always easy 
to say of a natural object to which of them it belongs. 
The mineral kingdom indeed can never be confounded 
with the other two ; for fossils are masses of mere dead 
unorganized matter, growing indeed by the addition of 
extraneous substances, but not fed by nourishment taken 
into an organized and living structure. Vegetables and 
animals, on the contrary, often resemble each other so 
closely as to render them scarcely distinguishable. If it 
be asked, what is the vital principle which belongs to the 
two last classes, and distinguishes them from the first, we 
must own our complete ignorance. We know it, as we 
know its Omnipotent Author, by its effects. 



TO THE SUNDIAL. 



My ear is pain'd, my heart is sick, 
When all beside is silent round, 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 

To hear the clock's unvaried click 
Eepeat its melancholy sound. 

'Tis irksome in the dead of night 

To have Time's progress thus made known, 

And his irrevocable flight 

Pro claim' d in such a sullen tone. 

To know that thus in darkness fly 
Boons far beyond the gift of kings ; 

That moments — hours — are gliding by, 
Which bear no record on their wings. — 

Nothing to show their lapse redeem'd 

From dull Oblivion's barren void ; 
But idle, useless, unesteem'd. 

Have found and left us unemployed. 

Better I love — since time must pass — 

To witness in the light of day 
The noiseless sand-gi-ains in the glass 

By slow succession di'op away. 

With still more joy to thee I turn, 

Meet horologe for Bard to love, 
Time's sweetest flight from thee I learn, 

Whose lore is borrow'd from above. 

The worldly use of time may need 

Less cumbrous tilings its course to tell^ — 

I love thy massive tome to read. 

To read — and — feel its voiceless spell. 

I love in some sequester'd nook 

Of antique garden to behold 
The page of thy sun-lighted book 

Its touching homily unfold. 

On some old terrace-walk to greet 
Thy form, a sight which never cloys. 

Is more to thought than drink and meat — 
To feeling than Art's costliest toys. 

These seem to track the path of time 
By vulgar means wl^ich man has given ; 

Thou, simple, silent, and sublime, 

But showst thy shadowy sign from Heaven. 

Barton. 

B 



10 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I. 

PROOFS OF THE ROTUNDITY OF THE EARTH. 

The spherical form of the earth is the fundamental prin- 
ciple of geography. The proofs of this truth present 
themselves to the senses, and they consist in certain re- 
markable appearances, either of objects upon the surface 
of the earth, or of the heavenly bodies. 

Why do towers, vessels, and mountains, when we re- 
cede from them, appear to sink below the horizon, com- 
mencing with the base ; and why, on the contrary, when 
we approach them, do these objects show first their sum- 
mits, then their middle, and last of all their bases ? These 
phenomena prove evidently that an apparent plane upon 
the earth is a curve surface, and that it is the convexity 
of this surface which conceals from the eye of the specta- 
tor upon the beach the hull of the vessel of which he sees 
the masts and sails. These things, too, happen uniformly 
towards whatever part of the earth we travel, whether 
towards the east or towards the west, towards the north 
or towards the south; it is impossible, therefore, to avoid 
drawing the conclusion, that the whole surface of the earth 
is, on all sides, nearly regularly curved ; or, in other words, 
that the earth is a body approaching in figure more or less 
to a sphere. — [See Illustrations^ Fig. 3.) 

The same inference is deducible from an observation 
of the heavens. The polestar is that point in the hea- 
vens, which, itself alone immovable, appears to serve as 
a pivot to the apparent motions of the heavenly bodies. 
Now, if we proceed towards the north, we see the pole- 
star take a position more elevated in the heavens, with 
regard to the horizon. If we go towards the south, this 
same star appears to sink, and others, before invisible, 
appear successively to rise. It is therefore impossible 
that the line whose direction we follow can be a straight 
line traced upon a horizontal plane; it can only be a 
curve ; and as the same change everywhere takes place, 
it is natural to conclude that the earth has at least a cir- 
cular form from north to south. The fact that the sun 
rises sooner to those who dwell more towards the east, 



SECT. I. A COUSSE OF READING. 11 

and gradually later to others in proportion as they are 
removed to the west, proves that it is equally circular 
from east to west ; for were it flat, the sun would begin 
to illuminate all parts of its surface at the same instant. 

Another most convincing proof is furnished by the 
eclipses of the moon. These eclipses are known to be 
caused by the earth coming between the sun and moon, 
and intercepting or cutting off the supply of light from 
the sun which illuminates the moon's suiface or disk; 
the dark part of the moon's disk is, therefore, nothing 
more than a representation of the earth's shadow at the 
distance of the moon. In whatever position the earth 
happens to be at the time of an eclipse, its shadow upon 
the moon's disk is always in the form of a circle or of 
part of a circle ; the earth must therefore be a sphere, 
since no other than a spherical body, in every position in 
which it can be placed with respect to another body giv- 
ing light, can cast a circular shadow upon a third body. 

The numerous voyages which have been made round 
the world have finally shut the mouths of all those who 
persisted in regarding the earth as a round plane, or a 
hemispherical disk. Navigators, such as Magellan and 
Drake, sailing from Europe, have pursued a course al- 
ways towards the west (making only some deviations, in 
order to double the lands which stretch towards the 
south), and, without quitting this general direction, have 
returned to the same place whence they set out. Heems- 
kerk, when he wintered at Nova Zembla, confirmed what 
astronomers had concluded from the spherical figure of 
the earth; namely, that the days and nights near the 
poles extend to several months. Finally, Cook, in ap- 
proaching as near as possible to the southern polar circle, 
found that the voyage round was always diminished pro- 
portionably to the diminution of his distance from the 
pole ; so that we have thus obtained an ocular proof of 
the rotundity of the earth towards the south pole as well 
as towards the north. ^ 

So many united proofs, as well as the accuracy of so 
many astronomical observations, aU of which have been 



12 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. I. 

made and calculated upon the supposition of the sphe- 
ricity of our earth, leave no room for reasonable doubts upon 
the subject. In vain does ignorance demand of us how 
the earth can remain suspended in the air without any 
support. Let us look upon the heavens, and observe how 
many other globes roll in space. Let us then lay aside 
all uneasiness concerning the antipodes^ that is, the peo- 
ple of the earth whose feet are turned towards ours : there 
is upon the globe neither high nor low; the antipodes 
see, in like manner as we do, the earth under their feet, 
and the sky over their heads. Malte-Brun. 



THE MINISTRY OF ANGELS. 

And is there care in heaven, and is there love 
In heavenly spirits to these creatures base, 
That may compassion of their evils move ? 
There is, or else more wretched were the case 
Of men than beasts. But oh ! the exceeding grace 
Of highest God ! that loves his creatures so, 
And all his works with mercy doth embrace. 
That blessed angels he sends to and fro. 
To serve to wicked men, — to serve his wicked foe. 

How oft do they then* silver bowers leave. 
To come to succour us that succour want ! 
How oft do they with golden pinions cleave 
The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant. 
Against foul fiends to aid us militant ! 
They for us fight, they watch aud duly ward. 
And their bright squadrons round about us plant ; 
And all for love, and nothing for reward : 
Oh ; why should heavenly God to man have such regard ! 

Spenser. 



THE INCARNATION. 

For thou wast bom of woman, thou didst come, 

O Holiest I to this world of sin and gloom. 

Not in thy dread omnipotent array ; 

And not by thunders strewed 
Was thy tempestuous road. 

Nor indignation burnt before thee on thy way ; 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 13 

But thee, a soft and naked child, 
Thv mother, undefiled, 
In the rude manger laid to rest 
From off her vii'gin breast. 

The heavens were not commanded to prepare 

A gorgeous canopy of golden air ; 

Nor stoop'd their lamps the enthroned fires on high ; 

A single silent star 

Came wandering from afar, 
Gliding uncheck'd and calm along the liquid sky ; 
The Eastern Sages leading on, 
As at a kingly throne. 
To lay their gold and odours sweet 
Before thy infant feet. 

The earth and ocean were not hush'd to hear 
Bright harmony fi'om every starry sphere ; 
Nor at thy presence brake the voice of song 

From all thy cherub choirs, 

And seraphs' burnmg lyres, 
Pour'd through the host of heaven the charmed clouds along ; 
One angel troop the strain began, 
Of all the race of man, 
By simple shepherds heard alone, 
That soft Hosanna's tone. 

And when thou didst depart, no car of flame 
To bear thee hence in lambent radiance came ; 
Nor visible angels mom-n'd with drooping plumes ; 

Nor didst thou mount on high 

From fatal Calvary 
With all thine own redeem'd outbursting from their tombs ; 
For thou didst bear away from earth 
But one of human birth, 
The dying felon by thy side, to be 
In Paradise with thee. 

Nor o'er thy cross did clouds of vengeance break ; 
A little while the conscious earth did shake 
At that foul deed by her fierce children done ; 

A few dim hours of day 

The world in darkness lay, 
Then bask'd in bright repose beneath the cloudless sun : 



14 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I. 

While thou didst sleep beneath the tomb, 
Consenting to thy doom, 
Ere yet the white-robed Angel shone 
Upon the sealed stone. 

And when thou didst arise, thou didst not stand 
With devastation in thy red right hand, 
Plaguing the guilty city's murtherous crew ; 

But thou didst haste to meet 

Thy mother's coming feet. 
And bear the words of peace unto the faithful few ; 
Then calmly, slowly didst thou rise 
Into thy native skies. 
Thy human form dissolved on high 
Into its own radiancy. Milman. 



WHAT IS THE USE WE MAKE OF THE SCRIPTURES ? 

All our practical knowledge of God is comprised in the 
Bible. All that we can know of our Creator, of our rela- 
tion to him, of his will, of his intentions concerning us, of 
our prospects after death, — all such knowledge we derive 
from this source. The Bible then ought to be to us that 
which the chart and the compass are to the mariner on a 
stormy ocean; we have absolutely no other guide, no 
other directory to our course. In what light then do we 
practically regard the Bible ? Is it enough to possess the 
Scriptures, to have been instructed out of the Scriptures 
in infancy, to hear them read in public worship, to have 
a general approbation of their contents? Would it be 
satisfactory to the mariner merely to possess a compass 
on board his vessel ; to have received information as to 
its use in infancy, to admire its utility, or to discourse 
sometimes publicly of its merits ; meanwhile he is driv- 
ing on, it may be, to rocks, to shores, to sands, or quite 
away from his course ? 

But how many an individual lives in this precise man- 
ner, as to his use of the Scriptures I Day passes after 
day, week after week, month after month, year after 
year, and God marks not his anxious eye pondering over 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 15 

this cliart of life. Politics, science, poetry, history, it may 
be lighter productions, — these can arrest his attention and 
interest his mind ; but the Bible which notifies the way- 
marks to eternity, — this excites no interest. And yet such 
a person perhaps expects God's favour — expects to reach 
the harbour of endless peace, and never even dreams of 
the probability of intervening shipwreck ! Mournful and 
inconsistent expectations ! Is this to work out salvation 
^'with fear and trembling ;'' is this to honour the stat- 
utes of the Sovereign of the universe ; is this to value 
the counsels of a heavenly parent and benefactor ; is this 
to betoken anxiety for the blessings of his great salva- 
tion? 

Many, however, are to be found who are by no means 
chargeable with this entire neglect of the Scriptures. 
Some have, from infancy, acquired regular habits of read- 
ing the Bible, and peruse, as a daily or at least as a 
weekly task, their allotted chapters. But they do this 
oftentimes without anxiety, and without progress in re- 
ligious knowledge. The fact of reading is to them more 
important than the contents which they read. They 
manifest no submission of the heart to God's teaching — 
no godly diligence to lay up in the soul his statutes and 
promises. Eternity fastens not upon their thoughts — 
the wonders of redeeming love attract not their affections. 
They read with coldness, and languor, and unconcern. 
There is no solicitude whether they understand, whether 
they feel, whether they remember, whether they obey — 
whether or not that mighty record of truth dispel false- 
hood, and tear away sin from their souls. There is no 
scrutiny as to the effect of their knowledge — as to the 
conformity of their views, and sentiments, and habits, 
with the decisions and intentions of God ! The heart 
makes no progress in its voyage — it is no nearer to God 
— no nearer to the dispositions of Heaven than it was 
many years ago. 

Think again of the mariner — his eye glances daily 
upon his compass — or once a- week he fixes his look upon 
the needle ; but he uses not the helm — ^he brings not the 



16 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. I, 

vessel into the prescribed course ! As well then might 
the compass be cast into the depths of the sea ! Now it 
is evident that this is not the use of the Scriptures which 
God demands — this is not to possess any anxiety as to 
the knowledge of God's will. Those who thus neglect, 
or thus imperfectly respect the Scriptures, are not among 
those who " work out their salvation with fear and trem- 
bling.'' Noel. 



THE POWER OF GOD. 

Thou art, God, the life and light 

Of all this wondrous world we see ; 
Its glow by day, its smile by night, 

Are but reflections caught from Thee ! 
"WTiere'er we turn, thy glories shine, 
And aU things fak and bright are Thine. 

When day with farewell beam delays 

Among the opening clouds of even, 
And we can almost think we gaze 

Through golden vistas into heaven, 
Those hues that mark the sun's decline, 
So soft, so radiant, Lord, are Thiae. 

When night, with wings of stormy gloom, 

O'ershadows all the earth and skies, 
Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume 

Is sparkling with a thousand eyes. 
That sacred gloom, those fires divine, 
So grand, so countless. Lord, are Thine. 

When youthful spring around us breathes, 

Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh, 
And every flower the summer wreaths 

Is born beneath that kindling eye : 
WTiere'er we turn, thy glories shine, 
And all things bright and fair are Thine. MoORE. 



GENERAL PROPERTIES OF BODIES. 

Mrs B, Emily, 
Mrs B. When I speak of bodies^ I mean substances, 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 17 

of whatever nature, whether solid, fluid, or aeriform; and 
matter is the general term used to denote the substance, 
whatever its nature be, of which the different bodies are 
composed. Thus, wood is the matter of which this table 
is made ; water is the matter with which this glass is 
filled, &c. 

E, I am very glad you have explained the meaning of 
the word matter, as it has corrected an erroneous con- 
ception I had formed of it ; I thought that it was appli- 
cable to solid bodies onlv. 

Mrs B, There are certain properties which appear to 
be common to all bodies, and are hence called the general 
properties of bodies ; these are impenetrahility^ extensiorij 
figure^ divisihiliti/^ and inertia. 

By impenetrability is meant the property which bodies 
have of occupying a certain space, so that where one 
body is, another cannot be without displacing the former. 
Two bodies cannot exist in the same place at the same 
time. A liquid may be more easily removed than a solid 
body ; yet it is not the less substantial, since it is as im- 
possible for a liquid and a solid to occupy the same space 
at the same time, as for two solid bodies to do so. For 
instance, if you put a spoon into a glass full of water, the 
water will flow over to make room for the spoon. 

E, I understand this perfectly. Liquids are in re- 
ality as substantial or as impenetrable as solid bodies ; 
and they appear less so only because they are more easily 
displaced. 

Mrs B. Air is a fluid differing in its nature from 
Kquids, but no less impenetrable. If I reverse this gob- 
let and plunge it perpendicularly into water, so that the 
air will not be able to escape, the water will no longer 
fill the goblet. 

E, But it rises a considerable way into it. 
Mrs B, Because the water compresses or squeezes the 
air into a small space in the upper part of the goblet ; 
but, as long as it remains there, no other body can occupy 
the same place. 

E, A difficulty has just occurred to me with regard to 

b2 



18 A COURSE OF BEADING. SECT. J. 

the impenetrability of solid bodies; if a nail is driven 
into a piece of wood, it penetrates it, and both the wood 
and the nail occupy the same space that the wood alone 
did before. 

Mrs B, The nail penetrates between the particles of 
the wood, by forcing them to make way for it ; and if the 
wood is not increased in size by the addition of the nail, 
it is because wood is a porous substance like sponge, the 
particles of which may be compressed or squeezed closer 
together, and it is thus that they make way for the nail. 

We may now proceed to the next general property of 
bodies, extension, A body which occupies a certain space 
must necessarily have extension; that is to say, lengthy 
breadth^ and depth: these are called the dimensions of 
extension. Can you form an idea of any body without 
them? 

E, No, certainly I cannot; though these dimensions 
must, of course, vary extremely in different bodies. The 
length, breadth, and depth of a box, or of a thimble, are 
very different from those of a walking-stick or of a hair. 
But is not height also a dimension of extension ? 

Mrs B, Height and depth are the same dimension, 
considered in different points of view. If you measure a 
body or a space from the top to the bottom, you call it 
depth ; if from the bottom upwards, you call it height ; 
thus the depth and height of a box are in fact the same 
thing. 

E, Very true; a moment's consideration would have 
enabled me to discover that. 

Mrs B. The limits of extension constitute figure or 
shape. You conceive that a body having length, breadth, 
and depth, cannot be without form, either symmetrical or 
irregular ? 

E. Undoubtedly; and this property admits of almost 
an infinite variety. 

Mrs B. Nature has assigned regular forms to her 
productions in general. The natural form of mineral 
substances is that of crystals, of which there is a great 
variety. Many of them are very beautiful, and no less 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 19 

remarkable by their transparency or colour, tlian by the 
perfect regularity of their forms, as may be seen in the 
various museums and collections of natural history. The 
vegetable and animal creations appear less symmetrical, 
but are still more diversified in figure than the mineral 
kingdom. Manufactured substances assume the various 
ai'bitrary forms which the art of man designs for them ; 
and an infinite number of irregular forms are produced 
by fractures, and by the dismemberment of the parts of 
bodies. 

E, Such as a piece of broken china or glass. 

Mrs B. Or the fragments of mineral bodies which are 
broken in being dug out of the earth, or decayed by the 
efi'ects of torrents and other causes. The picturesque 
efiect of rock- scenery is, in a great measure, owing to 
accidental irregularities of this kind. 

Divisibility is a susceptibility of being divided into an 
indefinite number of parts. Take any small quantity of 
matter, — a grain of sand for instance, — and cut it into 
two parts ; these two parts might be again divided, had 
we instruments sufficiently fine for the purpose ; and if 
by means of pounding, grinding, and other similar 
methods, we carry this division to the greatest possible 
extent, and reduce the body to its finest imaginable par- 
ticles, yet not one of the particles will be destroyed, and 
the body will continue to exist, though in this altered 
state. 

E. I have heard that a single pound of wool may be 
spun so fine as to extend to nearly 100 miles in length ; 
this appears to me a very remarkable instance of the 
power of divisibility. 

Mrs B. It is certainly. The melting of a solid body 
in a liquid also affords a very striking example of the 
extreme divisibility of matter. When you sweeten a 
cup of tea, for instance, with what minuteness the sugar 
must be divided to be difiused throughout the whole of 
the liquid ! ^ 

E. And if you pour a few drops of red wine into a 



20 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I. 

glass of water, tliey immediately tinge the whole of the 
water, and must therefore be diffused throughout it. 

Mrs B, Exactly so ; and the perfume of this lavender- 
water will be almost as instantaneously diffused through- 
out the room, if I take out the stopper. 

E. But in this case it is only the perfume of the lav- 
ender, and not the water itself, that is diffused in the 
room. 

M7's B, The odour or smell of a body is part of the 
body itself, and is produced by very minute particles or 
exhalations which escape from odoriferous bodies. It 
would be impossible that you should smell the lavender- 
water, if particles of it did not come in actual contact 
with your nose. 

E. But when I smell a flower, I see no vapour rise 
from it, and yet I can smell it at a considerable distance. 

Mi^s B, You can, I assure you, no more smell a flowery 
the odoriferous particles of which do not touch your nose, 
than you can taste a fruit, the flavoured particles of which 
do not come in contact with your tongue. 

E. That is wonderful indeed; the particles, then, 
which exhale from the flower, and from the lavender- 
water, are, I suppose, too small to be visible ? 

Mrs B, Certainly ; you may form some idea of their 
extreme minuteness from the immense number which 
must have escaped in order to perfume the whole room ; 
and yet there is no sensible diminution of the liquid in 
the phial. 

E. But the quantity must really be diminished? 

Mrs B, Undoubtedly; and were you to leave the 
bottle open a sufficient length of time, the whole of the 
liquid would evaporate and disappear. But though so 
minutely subdivided as to be imperceptible to any of our 
senses, each particle would continue to exist ; for it is 
not within the power of man to destroy a single particle 
of matter ; nor is there any reason to suppose that in 
nature an atom is ever annihilated. 

E, Yet, when a body is burnt to ashes, part of it, at 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 21 

least, appears to be effectually destroyed. Look how small 
is the residue of ashes beneath the grate from all the coals 
which have been consumed within it ! 

Mrs B. That part of the coals which you suppose to 
be destroyed evaporates in the form of smoke, whilst the 
remainder is reduced to ashes. A body, in burning, un- 
dergoes, no doubt, many remarkable changes ; — it is gen- 
erally subdivided ; — its form and colour are altered ; — 
its extension increased ; — but the various parts, into 
which it has been separated by combustion, continue in 
existence, and retain all the essential properties of bodies. 
No particle of matter is ever destroyed : this is a prin- 
ciple you must constantly remember. Everything in 
nature decays and corrupts in the lapse of time. We die, 
and our bodies moulder to dust ; but not a single atom of 
them is lost: they serve to nourish the earth, whence, 
while living, they draw their support. 

The remaining essential property of matter is called 
inertia; this word expresses the resistance which inac- 
tive matter makes to a change of state. Bodies appear 
not only to be incapable of changing their actual state, 
whether it be of motion or of rest, but to be endowed 
with a power of resisting such a change. You know that 
it requires force to put a body, which is at rest, in mo- 
tion ; an exertion of strength is also requisite to stop a 
body which is already in motion. The resistance of the 
body to a change of state, in either case, is called inertia. 

E, In playing at base-ball, I am obliged to use all my 
strength to give a rapid motion to the ball ,• and when I 
have to catch it, I am sure I feel the resistance it makes 
to being stopped ; but if I did not catch it, it would soon 
fall to the ground and stop of itself. 

Mrs B, Inert matter is as incapable of stopping of it- 
self as it is of putting itself into motion. When the 
ball ceases to move, therefore, it must be stopped by some 
other cause or power ; but as it is one with which you 
are yet unacquainted, we cannot at present investigate its 
effects. Mrs Marcet. 



22 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I, 



ON THE DOWNFAL OF POLAND. 

Oh I sacred Truth ! thy triumph ceased a while, 
And Hope, thy sister, ceased with thee to smile, 
When leagued Oppression pour'd to Northern wars 
Her whisker'd pandoors and her fierce hussars, 
Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn, 
Peal'd her loud drum, and twang'd her trumpet-horn : 
Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van. 
Presaging wrath to Poland — and to man ! 

Warsaw's last champion, from her height surveyed. 
Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid, — 
Oh ! Heaven ! he cried, — my bleeding country save ! 
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave? 
Yet, though Destruction sweep those lovely plains, 
Eise, fellow-men ! our country yet remains ! 
By that dread name we wave the sword on high ! 
And swear for her to live ! — with her to die ! 

He said, and on the rampart-heights arrayed 
His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed ; 
Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form, 
Still as the breeze, but di'eadful as the storm ; 
Low murmuring sounds along then' banners fly, 
Revenge, or death, — the watchword and reply ; 
Then peal'd the notes omnipotent to charm. 
And the loud tocsin toll'd their last alarm ! — 

In vain, alas ! in vain, ye gallant few ! 
From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew : — 
Oh ! bloodiest picture in the book of Time, 
Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime ; 
Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, 
Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe ! 
Dropp'd from her nerveless grasp the shatter'd spear, 
Closed her bright eye, and curb'd her high career ; 
Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell. 
And Freedom shiiek'd — as Kosciusko fell 1 

The sun went down, nor ceased the carnage there, 
Tumultuous murder shook the midnight sdr — 
On Prague's proud arch the fires of Ruin glow. 
His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 23 

The storm prevails, the rampart yields a way, 
Bursts the wild cry of horror and dismay ! 
Hark ! as the smouldering piles with thunder fall, 
A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call 1 
Earth shook — red meteors flash'd along the sky, 
And conscious nature shudder'd at the cry ! 

Departed spirits of the mighty dead ! 
Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled ! 
Friends of the world ! restore your swords to man, 
Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van ! 
Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone, 
And make her arm puissant as yom^ own ! 
Oh ! once again to Freedom's cause retui'n 
The patriot Tell — the Bruce of Bannockburn. 

Campbell. 



PULPIT eloquence. 

Infidelity, — It is amidst trials and sorrows that infidel- 
ity appears in its justest and most frightful aspect. "When 
subjected to the multifarious ills which flesh is heir to, 
what is there to uphold our spirit but the discoveries 
and the prospects that are unfolded to us by revelation ? 
What, for this purpose, can be compared with the belief 
that everything here below is under the management of 
infinite wisdom and goodness, and that there is an im- 
mortality of bliss awaiting us in another world ? If this 
conviction be taken away, what is it that we can have 
recourse to, on which the mind may patiently and safely 
repose in the season of adversity? where is the balm 
which I may apply with effect to my wounded heart, 
after I have rejected the aid of the Almighty Physician? 
Impose upon me whatever hardships you please; give 
me nothing but the bread of sorrow to eat; take from 
me the friends in whom I had placed my confidence ; lay 
me in the cold hut of poverty, and on the thorny bed of 
disease ; set death before me in all its terrors ; do all 
this, — only let me trust in my Saviour, and ^^ pillow my 
head on the bosom of Omnipotence,'' and I will " fear 
no evil," — I will rise superior to affiction," — I will " re- 



24 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I. 

joice in my tribulation.'' But let infidelity interpose 
between God and my soul, and draw its impenetrable 
veil over a future state of existence, and limit all my 
trust to the creatures of a day, and all my expectations 
to a few years as uncertain as they are short ; and how 
shall I bear up with fortitude or with cheerfulness, un- 
der the burden of distress ? Or where shall I find one 
drop of consolation to put into the bitter draught which 
has been given me to drink? I look over the whole range 
of this wilderness in which I dwell, but I see not one 
covert from the storm, nor one leaf for the healing of my 
soul, nor one cup of cold water to refresh me in the wea- 
riness and the faintings of my pilgrimage. 

Andrew Thomson. 



On the threatened Invasion in 1803. — By a series 
of criminal enterprises, the liberties of Europe have 
been gradually extinguished ; and we are the only peo- 
ple in the eastern hemisphere who are in possession of 
equal laws and a free constitution. Freedom, driven 
from every spot on the Continent, has sought an asylum 
in a country which she always chose for her favourite 
abode ; but she is pursued even here, and threatened with 
destruction. The inundation of lawless power, after 
covering the whole earth, threatens to follow us here ; 
and we are most exactly, most critically placed in the 
only aperture where it can be successfully repelled — in 
the Thermopylae of the world. As far as the interests 
of freedom are concerned — the most important by far of 
sublunary interests ! — you, my countrymen, stand in the 
capacity of the federal representatives of the human 
race ; for with you it is to determine (under God) in 
what condition the latest posterity shall be born ; their 
fortunes are intrusted to your care, and on your conduct 
at this moment depend the colour and complexion of 
their destiny. If liberty, after being extinguished on the 
Continent, is suffered to expire here, whence is it ever to 
emerge in the midst of that thick night that will invest 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 25 

it? It remains with you then to decide, whether that 
freedom, at whose voice the kingdoms of Europe awoke 
from the sleep of ages, to run a career of virtuous emu- 
lation in everything great and good ; the freedom which 
dispelled the mists of superstition, and invited the na- 
tions to behold their God, — whose magic torch kindled 
the rays of genius, the enthusiasm of poetry, and the 
flame of eloquence ; the freedom which poured into our 
lap opulence and arts, and embellished life with innumer- 
able institutions and improvements, till it became a the- 
atre of wonders ; it is for you to decide, whether this free- 
dom shall yet survive, or be covered with a funeral-pall, 
and wrapped in eternal gloom. It is not necessary to 
await your determination. In the solicitude you feel to 
approve yourselves worthy of such a trust, every thought 
of what is afflicting in warfare, every apprehension of 
danger must vanish, and you are impatient to mingle in 
the battle of the civilized world. Go then, ye defenders 
of your country, accompanied with every auspicious omen ; 
advance with alacrity into the field, where God himself 
musters the host to war. Religion is too much interested 
in your success not to lend you her aid ; she will shed 
over this enterprise her selectest influence. "While you 
are engaged in the field, many will repair to the closet, 
many to the sanctuary ; the faithful of every name will 
employ that prayer which has power with God ; the feeble 
hands, which are unequal to any other weapon, will grasp 
the sword of the Spirit; and from myriads of humble 
contrite hearts, the voice of intercession, supplication, 
and weeping, will mingle, in its ascent to heaven, with 
the shouts of battle and the shock of arms. The extent 
of your resources, under God, is equal to the justice of 
your cause. But should Providence determine other- 
wise, should you fall in this struggle, should the nation 
fall, you will have the satisfaction (the purest allotted to 
man!) of having performed your part; your names wiU 
be enrolled with the most iUustrious dead, while posterity 
to the end of time, as often as they revolve the events of 



26 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I. 

this period (and they will incessantly revolve them), will 
turn to you a reverential eye, while they mourn over the 
freedom which is entombed in your sepulchre. I cannot 
but imagine the virtuous heroes, legislators, and patriots, 
of every age and country, are bending from their elevated 
seats to witness this contest, as if they were incapable, 
till it be brought to a favourable issue, of enjoying their 
eternal repose. Enjoy that repose, illustrious immortals ! 
Your mantle fell when you ascended; and thousands, 
inflamed with your spirit, and impatient to tread in your 
steps, are ready to swear by Him that sitteth upon the 
throne, and liveth for ever and ever, that they will pro- 
tect Freedom in her last asylum, and never desert that 
cause which you sustained by your labours and cemented 
with your blood. Robert Hall. 



Claims of the Jews, — In advocating the cause of Israel, 
I would ask, and strongly too, is the account oi justice to- 
wards that nation settled? Is the long arrear of Gentile 
gratitude to that nation discharged ? For to what blessing 
shall we refer in the long catalogue of our own mercies, 
which we have not derived from Israel? 

Amidst the sorrows and vicissitudes of life, do we find 
daily consolations from God ? Under the terrors of con- 
science, do we behold a peaceful asylum in the cross of 
Christ? By the bed of dying worth, or at the oft-fre- 
quented grave of departed friendship, do we wipe away 
our tears in the sure and certain hope of a resurrection to 
the life eternal ? From whence do all these consolations 
flow? They flow to us from Judah. The Volume of 
God was penned by Jewish hands — the Gospel was pro- 
claimed by Jewish lips — yea, that Sacred Victim on the 
cross — the world's only hope — the sinner's only joy — 
wears not even He the lineaments of the children of 
Abraham? Christians! at length remove the stigma — 
repay the debt — admit the claims of justice — yield to the 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 27 

impulse of gratitude — feel — toil — supplicate for those 
whose forefathers felt, and toiled, and prayed for you ! 

Think, my brethren, of all their former grandeur, and 
contrast it with their present desolation. Such a contrast 
raises, even under ordinary circumstances, a keen emo- 
tion in the human heart. Why does the traveller fondly 
linger amidst the scenes of ancient art, or power, or in- 
fluence ? Wliy for so many a year have the poet and the 
philosopher wandered amidst the fragments of Athens and 
of Rome ? Why paused, with strange and kindling feehngs, 
amidst their broken columns — their mouldering temples 
— ^their deserted plains ? It is because their day of glory 
is passed — it is because their name is obscured — their 
power is departed, their influence is lost ! 

Similar emotions have, indeed, been often felt amidst 
the scenes of Jewish fame. The forsaken banks of Jor- 
dan, where the Psalmist once tuned his lyre and uttered 
his prophetic songs — the blighted plains of Galilee, where 
the Saviour often bent his lonely steps to cheer the widow's 
dwelling — the ruined city, once the terror of surround- 
ing nations — the forgotten temple, whose walls once 
echoed back the accents of that voice " which spake as 
never man spake ^' — these images and memorials of for- 
mer days have often produced a solemn sadness in the 
minds of those who have visited the shores of Palestine 
— and these feelings have responded to the afiecting com- 
plaint. Thy holy cities are a wilderness — Zion is a wil- 
derness — Jerusalem is a desolation. Our holy and our 
beautiful house^ where our fathers praised thee, is burned 
up tvithfrey and all our pleasant things are laid waste. 

But is there no emphasis of sadness to be found in the 
sordid and degraded state of those who wander through the 
world forgotten and forlorn, though once the honoured ser- 
vants, the favoured children of the Lord ? Shall the sculp- 
tured stone — the broken shaft — the time-worn capital — even 
the poor fragments of some profane sanctuary — shall these 
affect so deeply the heart-^and shall the moral ruin, the 
spiritual decay, the symptoms of eternal perdition — shall 
these vestiges of desolation excite no feeling in our bosoms? 



28 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I. 

" Oil ! where a sight shall shuddering sorrow find 
Sad as the ruins of the human mind?'^ 

And where is a ruin to be found so mournful and so com- 
plete as that which the moral aspect of Judah now pre- 
sents to our view ? Noel. 



WAR-SONG OF THE GREEKS. 

Awake ! 'tis the terror of war ; 

The Crescent is toss'd on the wind ; 
But our flag flies on high, like the perilous star 

Of the battle. Before and behind, 
Wherever it glitters, it darts 
Bright death into tyrannous hearts. 

Who are they that now bid us be slaves ? 

They are foes to the good and the free ; 
Go bid them first fetter the might of the waves ; 

The sea may be conquered, — but we 
Have spirits untamable still, 
And the strength to be free, — and the will. 

The Helots are come : In their eyes 

Proud hate and fierce massacre bum. 
They hate us, — but shall they despise ? 

They are come ; shall they ever return ? 
God of the Greeks ! from thy throne 
Look down, and we'll conquer alone. 

Our fathers, — each man was a god. 

His will was a law, and the sound 
Of his voice, like a spirit's, was worshipped : he trod, 

And thousands fell worshippers round : 
From the gates of the West to the Sun 
He bade, and his bidding was done. 

And we — shall we die in our chains. 

Who once were as free as the wind ? 
Who is it that threatens, — ^who is it arraigns ? 

Are they princes of Europe or Ind ? 
Are they kings to the uttermost pole ? 
They are dogs with a taint on their soul. 

Barry Cornwall. 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 29 



COMMON MICA, LIME, ALABASTER, NITRE, AND COAL. 

The most simple and natural division of minerals is into 
four classes, stones^ saltSj combustibles^ and metals. The 
principal species belonging to the first class are, besides 
the precious stones, quartz, clay, clay-slate, mica, soap- 
stone, talc, and lime ; those belonging to the second are, 
alum, common salt, nitre, and sal-ammoniac. And the 
principal combustibles are, the bituminous substances, 
naphtha, coal, jet, and sulphur. These species or fami- 
lies, are again subdivided into individuals ; but as it is 
not intended, in this lesson, to give a systematic view of 
minerals, but merely to give some account of the most 
curious or useful of them, farther subdivision is unneces- 
sary. 

The Diamond has the pre-eminence of all precious 
stones ; it is of various colours, though commonly white 
or gray. In the direct rays of the sun, or in candlelight, 
it displays, when skilfully cut, the most brilliant play of 
colours. By modern experiments, it is found, though the 
hardest of minerals, to be a combustible substance. In 
addition to its use as an ornament, it is employed by lap- 
idaries for cutting and engraving upon the harder gems, 
by watchmakers in their finer kind of work, and by glaziers 
for cutting glass. The largest diamond hitherto discovered 
is said to be one found in Brazil, now in possession of the 
royal family of Portugal. Its weight is 1680 carats, and 
its value upwards of ^yq millions sterling. But it is now 
believed to be merely a topaz. The Emperor of Russia 
has in his possession a diamond, perfectly pure, of the 
weight of 195 carats, and of the size of a pigeon's egg. It 
represented one of the eyes in a Brahminical image, whence 
it was stolen by a French grenadier, who, not aware of the 
prize he had got, sold it much under its value. After 
passing through three other hands, it was bought by the 
Empress of Russia for £90,000, ready money, and an an- 
nuity of £4000. 



30 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. I. 

Flinty a kind of quartz, is a peculiarly hard and com- 
pact stone. It is nearly thrice as heavy as water, and when 
broken, will split, in every direction, into pieces which 
have a smooth surface. In consequence of its property of 
yielding sparks, when struck against steel, it Avas long 
an article of indispensable utility in the system of modern 
warfare. It is also employed in the manufacture of por- 
celain and glass. Glass is made by mixing the flint, re- 
duced to a fine powder, with a certain proportion of soda 
or potash, and exposing the compound, thus formed, to a 
violent heat tiU it becomes perfectly fluid. It is then, 
by means of a hollow tube, to which it is attached, blown 
into moulds of the shape and size of the vessel to be 
formed. — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 4.) 

Asbestos is a greenish or silvery white mineral, of 
fibrous texture, which is found in many mountainous 
countries. I4:s name, signifying that which is incon- 
consumable, describes its distinguishing property. The an- 
cients made it, particularly a silky variety of it in long 
slender filaments called amianthus^ into an incombustible 
kind of cloth, in which they burned the bodies of their 
dead in order that they might collect and preserve the 
ashes without mixture. Pliny, the Roman naturalist, 
informs us that he had seen tablecloths, towels, and 
napkins of amianthus taken from the table of a great 
feast and burned before the company, by which operation, 
he adds, they became better cleansed than if they had 
been washed. It is used in modern times principally for 
the manufacture of gloves, caps, girdles, and purses. It 
has sometunes been made also into fire-proof paper ; and 
in Corsica it is kneaded with clay for the manufacture of 
pottery. 

Clay-slate is a well-known mineral, of a foliated tex- 
ture, and of a grayish, black, brown, green, or bluish 
colour. It breaks into splinters, and is nearly thrice as 
heavy as water. Its principal use is for the roofing of 
houses. For this purpose it is split into thin plates, or 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 31 

laminag, which are fastened to the rafters by pegs driven 
through them, and made to lap over each other at the 
edges in such a manner as to exclude moisture. Dark- 
coloured and compact slates are manufactured into writ- 
ing slates. In the preparation of these, the slate, after 
it is split of a proper thickness, is first smoothed with an 
iron instrument, then ground with sandstone, and slightly 
polished with tripoli (a clay of a yellowish- gray colour, 
which received its name from having been first imported 
into Europe from Tripoli), and, lastly, rubbed with char- 
coal powder. The pencils which are used for writing on 
slates are made of a particular kind of soft slate, which, 
on splitting, falls into long splintery fragments. When 
sufficiently solid for the purpose, slate is cut into inkstands, 
and turned into vases and fancy articles of various kinds. 
And a singular circumstance has been remarked, that 
if a window or door be suddenly opened in an apartment 
Vr^here the workmen are turning these, they will some- 
times fly in pieces; though, after the work is finished, 
they may be exposed to the usual changes of temperature 
without injury. 

Common Mica^ Glimmer or Muscovy glass, is a mineral 
of a foliated texture, which is capable of being divided 
into extremely thin leaves that have a sensible elasticity, 
and are transparent. Its colour varies from black to silvery 
white, and it has occasionally a metallic lustre on the 
surface. It is so soft as easily to be scratched, and, when 
divided across the plates, seems rather to tear than break. 
Thin plates of this mineral are adopted, in many parts of 
Siberia and Muscovy, to supply the place of glass for 
windows. In the shipping of Russia it is considered pre- 
ferable to glass, because the concussion produced by the 
firing of the guns does not shatter it. It may be advan- 
tageously substituted for horn in lanterns, as it is not 
only more transparent, but less susceptible of injury from 
the flame of the candle. It has, however, the incon- 
venience of soon becoming dirty, and of having its trans- 
parency destroyed by long exposure to the air. 



32 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. I. 

Lime^ after it has been freed from extraneous matters 
by burning, is a mineral of a whitish colour, and pungent, 
acrid, and caustic taste, which changes vegetable blue 
colours to green, and corrodes and destroys animal sub- 
stances. The process of purifying lime is by placing it 
in a large kind of furnace called a kiln^ where the lime- 
stones and fuel are heaped in alternate layers. After 
having gone through this process it is commonly known 
by the name of quicklime. The principal use of lime is 
in the formation of mortar or cement for buildings. For 
this purpose it is first slacked by having water poured 
upon it ; a violent heat is thereby excited, and the lime 
falls into powder ; it is then formed into paste by work- 
ing it with water and sand. It is also used for agricul- 
tural purposes, being supposed, when laid upon land, to 
hasten the dissolution and putrefaction of all kinds of 
animal and vegetable substances, and to impart to it a 
power of retaining the moisture which is necessary for 
the vigorous growth of agricultural produce. It is em- 
ployed likewise in the refining of sugar, in the manufac- 
ture of soap, in the melting of iron, and by tanners, in 
a state of solution, for dissolving the gelatinous parts of 
skins, and removing the hair from them. If swallowed, or 
inhaled, it is a violent poison. Chalk is a white, earthy 
kind of limestone too well known to require any descrip- 
tion ; and marble is a close-grained species of the same 
mineral, so hard as to admit of being polished. 

Calcareous Alabaster^ which was employed by the an- 
cients for the same purposes as marble, and of which the 
box of precious ointment mentioned in the Gospel of St 
Matthew is supposed to have been formed, is a species of 
limestone deserving of notice chiefly on account of its 
formation. The water which oozes through the crevices 
of limestone-rocks becomes strongly impregnated with 
minute particles of lime. This water, when it has reached 
the roof or side of a cavern, is generally suspended for a 
considerable time before a drop of sufficient size to fall by 
its own weight is formed. In the interval which thus 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 33 

elapses, some of the particles of lime are separated from 
the water and adhere to the roof. In this manner suc- 
cessive particles are separated, and are attached to each 
other, until what is called a stalactite^ having somewhat 
the appearance of an icicle, is formed. If the water col- 
lects and drops too rapidly to allow time for the forma- 
tion of a stalactite, it falls upon the floor, and there forms 
an irregular lump of alabaster, which has the name of 
stalagmite. In some caverns the separation of the cal- 
careous matter takes place both at the roof and on the 
floor; and in course of time, the substance upon each 
increasing, they meet, and form pillars, sometimes of 
great magnitude. — [See Illustrations^ Fig. 5.) 

Nitre^ or Saltpetre^ is usually observed in the form of 
fine capillary crystals. Its principal use is in the manu- 
facture of gunpowder ; and, in order to obtain it in suffi- 
cient abundance for this purpose, it is necessary to have 
recourse to artificial means. In several districts of the 
East Indies there are places called saltpetre-grounds, 
from which large quantities of the earth are dug and put 
into cavities through which water is passed. The water 
brings away with it the salt contained in the earth, which 
is afterwards separated from the water by boiling. The 
East India Company, for more than a century past, 
has been under engagements to supply the Board of Ord- 
nance for the public service with 500 tons of nitre an- 
nually, at given rates and prices in times of peace and 
war. The discovery of gunpowder has completely changed 
the art of war. It was first used in Europe in the wars 
of Germany somewhat before the year 1373 ; but it is 
said to have been known in China long anterior to that 
period. Its component parts are nitre, charcoal, and 
sulphur, in the proportion, of 76, 15, and 9 in every hun- 
di'cd parts. 

Coal^ which is composed of charcoal, oxygen, and hy- 
drogen, is the most important of the combustible miner- 
als. Its uses as fuel are too well known to require any 

c 



34 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I. 

observations. In Britain this mineral is found in such 
abundance, and applied to so many important purposes, 
that it has been regarded by some foreign writers as the 
great source of our wealth, and the principal cause of our 
national prosperity; and indeed there can be no doubt 
that our superiority to other countries in arts and manu- 
fdctures is owing in a great measure to its abundance. 
The most valuable species of coal are jet or pitch coal, 
which is so hard as to resist scratching even by a knife, 
and is generally made into rosaries, necklaces, snuflF-boxes, 
and other trinkets; cannel coal, called in Scotland par- 
rot coal, which is highly inflammable, does not soil the 
fingers, and crackles and splinters during combustion ; 
glance coal, which consists almost entirely of charcoal, 
produces neither smoke nor soot, emits a blue lambent 
flame when redhot, and gives out an extremely suffocat- 
ing effluvium ; and common or pit coal, which stains the 
fingers, and cakes dm'ing combustion. Coals are princi- 
pally obtained from the neighbourhood of Newcastle-upon- 
Tyne, South Wales, and Lancashire, in England; and 
in the river- districts of the Forth and Clyde in Scotland. 
The particular places whence they are obtained have the 
name of collieries^ and the mines from which they are dug 
are called pits. The deepest of these are in Northumber- 
land, and are worked at more than 1800 feet below the 
surface of the earth. At Newcastle there is a coal-pit 
nearly 800 feet in depth, and which at that depth is 
wrought five miles horizontally, quite across and beneath 
the bed of the river Tyne, and under the adjacent part 
of the county of Durham. At Whitehaven the mines are 
of great depth, and are extended even under the sea, to 
places where there is above them sufficient depth of wa- 
ter for ships of great burden, and in which the miners are 
able sometimes to hear the roaring of the water. On the 
contrary, in some parts of Durham the coal lies so near 
the surface of the earth that the wheels of carriages lay 
it open, and in such quantity as to be sufficient for the 
use of the neighbourhood. 



SECT. I. A COURSE OP READING. 35 

THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE. 

Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, 

As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; 
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot 

O'er the grave where our hero we buried. 

We buried him darkly at dead of night, 

The sods with our bayonets turning ; 
By the struggling moonbeam's misty light. 

And the lantern dimly burning. 

No useless coffin enclosed his breast, 

Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him ; 

But he lay like a warrior taking his rest. 
With his martial cloak around him. 

Few and short were the prayers we said. 

And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; 
But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, 

And we bitterly thought of the morrow. 

We thought as we hollow'd his narrow bed, 

And smooth'd down his lonely pillow, 
Tliat the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head. 

And we far away on the billow ! 

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, 

And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, — 
But httle he'll reck, if they let him sleep on 

In the grave where a Briton has laid him. 

But half of our heavy task was done. 

When the clock struck the hour for retking ; 

And we heard the distant and random gun 
That the foe was sullenly firing. 

Slowly and sadly we laid him down. 

From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; 

We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone — 
But we left him alone with liis glory. 

Rev. C. Wolfe. 



ATTRACTION OF COHESION AND ATTRACTION OF GRAVITY. 

Mrs B, Emily. Caroline, 
E, I HAVE related to my sister Caroline all that you 
taught me yesterday respecting bodies ; and she has been 



86 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. U 

SO much delighted by it, that she hopes you will have the 
goodness to admit her to your lessons. 

Mrs B. Very willingly ; but I did not think that you 
had any taste for studies of this nature, Caroline. 

C, I confess, Mrs B., that hitherto I had formed no 
very agreeable idea either of philosophy or philosophers ; 
but what Emily has told me has excited my curiosity so 
much, that I shall be highly pleased if you will allow me 
to become one of your pupils. 

Mrs B. I fear that I shall not find you so tractable a 
pupil as Emily ; I know that you are much biassed in 
favour of your own opinions. 

(7. Then you will have the greater merit in reforming 
them ; and, after all the wonders that Emily has related 
to me, I think I stand little chance against you and your 
attractions. 

Mrs B, Well, your objections I shall willingly admit, 
as they will be the means of elucidating the subject. 
Emily, do you recollect the names of the general proper- 
ties of bodies ? 

E. Impenetrability, extension, figure, divisibility, and 
inertia. 

Mrs B, You must remember that these are properties 
common to all bodies, and of which they cannot be de- 
prived; all other properties are called accidental^ because 
they depend on the relation of one body to another. 

C. Yet, surely, Mrs B., there are other properties 
which are essential to bodies besides those you have enu- 
merated. Weight, for instance, is common to all bodies, 
and does not arise from their connexion with each other, 
but exists in the bodies themselves. 

Mrs B, I beg your pardon; this property does not 
exist in bodies independently of their connexion with 
other bodies. 

(7. What 1 have bodies no weight ? Does not this table 
weigh heavier than this book ? and if one thing weighs 
heavier than another, must there not be such a thing as 
weight ? 

Mrs B. No doubt ; but tliis property does not appear 



SECT. I. A COURSE OP READING. 37 

to be essential to bodies ; it depends upon their connexion 
with each other. Weight is an effect of the power of 
attraction^ without which the table and the book would 
have no weight whatever. Indeed, attraction itself must 
be considered as an accidental property of matter. 

C, But what is attraction, Mrs B. ? I do not clearly 
understand it. 

E. Allow me, Mrs B., to explain it to Caroline. 
All bodies consist of infinitely small particles of matter, 
each of which possesses the power of attracting, or draw- 
ing towards it, any other particle sufficiently near to be 
within the influence of its attraction ; but in minute par- 
ticles this power extends to so very small a distance that 
its effect is not sensible, unless they are, or appear to be, 
in contact. It then makes them stick or adhere together, 
and is hence called the attraction of cohesion. Without 
this power solid bodies would fall to pieces, or rather 
crumble to atoms. 

(7. Well ; it never occurred to me that any power was 
requisite to unite the particles of which solid bodies are 
composed. But the attraction of cohesion does not, I 
suppose, exist in liquids ; for the particles of liquids do 
not remain together so as to form a body^ unless confined 
in a vessel. 

E, I beg your pardon ; it is the attraction of cohesion 
which holds this drop of water suspended at the end of 
my finger, and keeps the minute watery particles of which 
it is composed united. But, as this power is stronger in 
proportion as the particles of bodies are more closely 
united, the cohesive attraction of solid bodies is much 
greater than that of fluids. The thinner and lighter a 
fluid is, the less is the cohesive attraction of its particles, 
because they are farther apart ; in air, for example, which 
is a very light and rare fluid, there is almost no attraction 
among the particles. 

(7. It is then, I suppose, owing to the different degrees 
of attraction of different substances that they are hard or 
soft, and that liquids are thick or thin ? 

E, Yes. Is it not so, Mrs B. ? 



38 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. I. 

Mrs B, Certainly ; but you would express your mean- 
ing better by the term density^ which denotes the close- 
ness and compactness of the particles of a body. Rarity 
is used in the same way, though opposed to density ; 
thus, you would say, mercury was a very dense fluid, 
ether a very rare one. 

C. But you were speaking a little ago of the attraction 
of gravity. Is this the same as the attraction Emily has 
just described? 

Mrs B, It is substantially the same ; and had you not 
interrupted your sister, she would have gone on to de- 
scribe it also. Explain it now, Emily. 

E. The attraction of cohesion takes place between 
bodies only when they are at such very small distances 
from each other that they appear to the eye to be in 
contact; but the attraction of gi^avitation or gravity is 
the force which all the masses of matter exert upon each 
other at all distances. 

C You astonish me ; surely you do not mean to say 
that large bodies attract each other ? 

Mrs B, Indeed she does, Caroline; let us take, for 
example, the largest bodies in nature, and observe whether 
they do not attract other bodies. What is it that occa- 
sions the fall of this book when I no longer support it ? 

(7. Can it be the attraction of the earth ? I thought 
that all bodies had a natural tendency to fall. 

Mrs B. They have a natural tendency to fall, it is 
true ; but that tendency is produced entirely by the at- 
traction of the earth ; the earth, being so much larger 
than any body on its surface, forces every body, which is 
not supported, to fall upon it. All matter is attractive, 
from the smallest particle to the largest mass, and bodies 
attract each other with a force proportioned to the quan- 
tity of matter they contain. 

E, Is it not, then, because every particle is endowed 
with an attractive power, that large bodies, consisting of 
a great number of particles, are so strongly attractive ? 

Mrs B, It is; but there is this diflference between 
the attraction of particles and that of masses, that the 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 3^ 

fonner is stronger than tlie latter in proportion to the 
quantity of matter. It is from this circumstance that all 
solid bodies are enabled, by the force of the cohesive at- 
traction of their particles, to resist that of gravity, which 
would otherwise disunite them, and bring them to a level 
with the ground, as it does in the case of liquids, whose 
cohesion is not sufficient to enable them to resist the 
power of gravity. 

E. But, Mrs B., if the attraction of gravity belongs 
equally to all kinds of matter, it must be mutual between 
two bodies; and if so, when a stone falls to the earth, 
the earth should rise part of the way to meet the stone? 

Mrs B, Certainly ; but you must recollect that the 
force of attraction is proportioned to the quantity of mat- 
ter which bodies contain ; and if you consider the differ- 
ence there is, in that respect, between a stone and the 
earth, you will not be surprised that you do not perceive 
the earth rise to meet the stone. 

E. But since attraction is proportioned to the quantity 
of matter which bodies contain, why do not the hills at- 
tract the houses and churches towards them ? 

(7. Oh, Emily, what an idea ! How can the houses and 
churches be removed when they are so firmly fixed in the 
ground ? 

Mrs B. Emily^s question is not absurd; and your an- 
swer, Caroline, is perfectly just; but can you tell why 
the houses and churches are so fiimly fixed in the ground ? 

C. I am afraid I have answered right by mere chance ; 
for I begin to suspect that bricklayers and carpenters 
could give but little stability to their buildings without 
the aid of attraction. 

Mrs B. It is certainly the cohesive attraction between 
the bricks and the mortar which enables them to build 
walls ; and these are so strongly attracted by the earth 
as to resist every other impulse. They would necessarily 
move towards the hills and the mountains, did not the 
lesser force yield to the greater. There are, however, 
some circumstances in which the attraction of a large 



40 A COURSE OF REAaiNG. SECT. I. 

body has sensibly counteracted that of the earth. If, 
whilst standing on the declivity of a mountain, you hold 
a plumb-line in your hand, the weight will not fall per- 
pendicular to the ground, but incline a little toward the 
mountain. 

E. But the size of a mountain is very trifling compared 
to the whole earth. 

Mrs B, Attraction, you must recollect, diminishes 
with distance; and, in the example of the plumb-line, 
the weight is considerably nearer to the mountain than 
to the centre of the earth ; then the inclination of the 
plumb-line is very small, so small that it is not sensible 
to the eye without the help of instruments contrived for 
the purpose. 

C. Pray, Mrs B., do the two scales of a balance hang 
parallel to each other ? 

Mrs B, You mean, I suppose, in other words, to in- 
quire whether two lines, which are perpendicular to the 
earth, are parallel to each other? I believe I guess the 
reason of your question ; but I wish you would endeavour 
to answer it without my assistance. 

C I was thinking that such lines must both tend by 
gravity to the same point, the centre of the earth ; now, 
lines tending to the same point cannot be parallel, as par- 
allels are always at an equal distance from each other, 
and would never meet. 

Mrs B, Very well explained. Lines which fall per- 
pendicular to the surface of a sphere cannot be parallel, 
because they would all meet if prolonged to the centre of 
the sphere. — {See Illustrations^ Fig, 6.) 

E, And yet a pair of scales, hanging perpendicular to 
the earth, appear parallel? 

Mrs B. Because the sphere is so large, and the scales 
consequently converge so little, that their inclination is 
not perceptible to our senses. 

(7. It has just occurred to me, that there are some 
bodies which do not gravitate towards^ the earth. Smoke 
and steam, for instance, rise instead of falling. 



SECT. I. A COURSE OF READING. 41 

Mrs B, It is still gravity which produces their ascent ; 
at least were that power destroyed these bodies would 
not rise. 

(7. I shall be out of conceit with gravity, if it is so in- 
consistent in its operations. 

Mrs B. There is no difficulty in reconciling this ap- 
parent inconsistency of effect. The air near the earth is 
heavier than smoke, steam, or other vapours; it conse- 
quently not only supports these light bodies, but forces 
them to rise, till they reach a part of the atmosphere the 
weight of which is not greater than their own, and then 
they remain stationary. Look at this basin of water ; 
why does the piece of cork which I throw into it float on 
the surface? 

(7. Because, being lighter than the water, it is sup- 
ported by it. 

Mrs B, And now, that I pour more water into the 
basin, why does the cork rise ? 

(7. The water, being heavier than the cork, gets beneath 
it, and obliges it to rise. 

Mrs B, In a similar manner are smoke and vapour 
forced upwards by the air ; but these bodies do not, like 
the cork, ascend to the surface of the fluid, because, as 
we observed before, the air being . thinner and lighter as 
it is more distant from the earth, vapours rise only till 
they attain a region of air of their own density. Smoke, 
indeed, ascends but a very little way; it consists of mi- 
nute particles of fuel carried up by a cun-ent of heated 
air from the fire below ; and when this current of air is 
cooled by mixing with that of the atmosphere, the minute 
particles of coal, or other combustible, fall, and produce 
the small black flakes which render the air, and every- 
thing in contact with it, in London, so dirty. 

Mrs Marcet. 



c2 



42 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IT. 



SECTION II. 



HOW IT STRIKES A STRANGER. 

In a remote period of antiquity, when the marvellous ob- 
tained a readier credence than now, it was fabled that a 
stranger of extraordinary appearance was observed pacing 
the streets of one of the magnificent cities of the East, 
remarking with an eye of intelligent curiosity every sur- 
rounding object. Several individuals gathering round 
him, questioned him concerning his country and his busi- 
ness ; but they presently perceived that he was unac- 
quainted with their language, and he soon discovered 
himself to be equally ignorant of the most common usages 
of society. At the same time the dignity and intelli- 
gence of his air and demeanour forbade the idea of his 
being either a barbarian or a lunatic. When at length 
he understood by their signs that they wished to be in- 
formed whence he came, he pointed with great signifi- 
cance to the sky ; upon which the crowd, concluding him 
to be one of their deities, were proceeding to pay him 
divine honour; but he no sooner comprehended their 
design, than he rejected it with horror, and, bending his 
knees, and raising his hands towards heaven in the atti- 
tude of prayer, gave them to understand tliat he also was 
a worshipper of the powers above. 

After a time, it is said that the mysterious stranger 
accepted the hospitalities of one of the nobles of the city ; 
under whose roof he applied himself with great diligence 
to the acquirement of the language, in which he made 
such surprising proficiency, that in a few days he was 
able to hold intelligent intercourse with those around 
him. The noble host now resolved to take an early op- 
portunity of satisfying his curiosity respecting the coun- 
try and quality of his guest ; and, upon his expressing 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 43 

this desire, tlie stranger assured him that he would an- 
swer his inquiries that evening after sunset. Accordingly, 
as night approached, he led him forth upon the balconies 
of the palace which overlooked the wealthy and popu- 
lous city. Innumerable lights from its busy streets and 
splendid palaces were now reflected in the dark bosom of 
its noble river; where stately vessels, laden with rich 
merchandise from all parts of the known world, lay an- 
chored in the port. This was a city in which the voice 
of the harp and of the viol, and the sound of the mill- 
stone, were continually heard ; and craftsmen of all kinds 
of craft were there ; and the light of a candle was seen 
in every dwelling ; and the voice of the bridegroom and 
the voice of the bride were heard there. The stranger 
mused a while upon the glittering scene, and listened to 
the confused murmur of mingling sounds. Then sud- 
denly raising his eyes to the starry firmament, he fixed 
them, with an expressive gaze, on the beautiful evening 
star. " Marvel not," said he to his host, " that I gaze 
with fond affection on yonder silvery star. That was my 
home ; yes, I was lately an inhabitant of that tranquil 
planet ; from whence a vain curiosity has tempted me to 
wander. Often had I beheld with admiration this bril- 
liant world of yours, ever one of the brightest gems of 
our firmament ; and the ardent desire I had long felt to 
know something of its condition was at length unexpect- 
edly gratified. I received permission and power from 
above to traverse the mighty void, and to direct my course 
to this distant sphere. To that permission, however, one 
condition was annexed, to which my eagerness for the en- 
terprise induced me hastily to consent; namely, that I 
must thenceforth remain an inhabitant of this strange 
earth, and undergo all the vicissitudes to which its na- 
tives are subject. Tell me, therefore, I pray you, what 
is the lot of man ; and explain to me more fully than I 
yet understand all that I hear and see around me.'' 

^' Truly, sir," replied tl\e astonished noble, *^ although 
I am altogether unacquainted with the manners and cus- 



44 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. II. 

toms, products and privileges of your country, yet, me- 
thinks, I cannot but congratulate you on your arrival in 
our vrorld ; especially since it lias been your good fortune 
to alight on a part of it affording such various sources of 
enjoyment as this our opulent and luxurious city. And 
be assured, it will be my pride and pleasure to introduce 
you to all that is most worthy the attention of such a dis- 
tinguished foreigner.'' 

Our adventurer, accordingly, was presently initiated 
in those arts of luxury and pleasure which were there 
well understood. He was introduced, by his obliging 
host, to their public games and festivals, to their theatri- 
cal diversions and convivial assemblies ; and he was just 
beginning to be in some measure reconciled to the man- 
ners and customs of our planet, strangely as they differed 
from those of his own, when an incident occurred which 
gave an entirely new direction to his energies. 

It was but a few weeks after his arrival on our earth, 
when, walking in the cool of the day with his friend in 
the outskii'ts of the city, his attention was arrested by 
the appearance of a spacious enclosure near which they 
passed. He inquired the use to which it was appropri- 
ated. 

^' It is,'' replied the nobleman, ''a place of public in- 
terment." 

" I do not understand you," said the stranger. 

'' It is the place," repeated his friend, " where we bury 
our dead," 

'' Excuse me, sir," replied his companion, with some 
embarrassment, '' I must trouble you to explain yourself 
yet further." 

The nobleman repeated the information in still plainer 
terms. 

" I am still at a loss to comprehend you perfectly," 
said the stranger, turning deadly pale. '' This must re- 
late to something of which I was not only totally igno- 
rant in my own world, but of which I have as yet had 
no intimation in yours. I pray you, therefore, to satisfy 



SECT. n. A COURSE OF READING. 45 

my curiosity ; for, if I have any clew to your meaning, 
this surely is a matter of more mighty concernment than 
any to which you have hitherto directed me.'' 

" My good friend/' replied the nobleman, " you must 
be indeed a novice amongst us, if you have yet to learn 
that we must all, sooner or later, submit to take our place 
in these dismal abodes ; nor will I deny that it is one of 
the least desirable of the circumstances which appertain 
to our condition ; for which reason it is a matter rarely 
referred to in polished society j and this accounts for your 
being hitherto uninformed on the subject. But, truly, 
sir, if the inhabitants of the place whence you came are 
not liable to any similar misfortune, I advise you to be- 
take yourself back again with all speed ; for be assured 
there is no escape here ; nor could I guarantee your safety 
for a single hour." 

"Alas!" replied the adventurer, "I must submit to 
the conditions of my enterprise, of which, till now, I little 
understood the import. But explain to me, I beseech 
you, something more of the nature and consequences of 
this wondrous metamorphosis, and tell me at what period 
it most commonly happens to man." While he thus 
spoke his voice faltered, and his whole frame shook vio- 
lently ; his countenance was pale as death, and a cold dew 
stood in large drops upon his forehead. 

His companion, finding the discourse becoming more 
serious than was agreeable, declared that he must refer 
him to the priests for further information, this subject 
being very much out of his province. 

" How!" exclaimed the stranger, " then I cannot have 
understood you : — do the priests only die ? — are not you 
to die also?" 

His friend, evading these questions, hastily conducted 
his importunate companion to one of their magnificent 
temples, where he gladly consigned him to the instruc- 
tions of the priesthood. 

The emotion which the^ stranger had betrayed when 
he received the first idea of death was yet slight in com- 
parison with that which he experienced as soon as he 



mm 



46 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IT. 

gathered from the discourses of the priests some notion 
of immortality, and of the alternative of happiness or 
misery in a future state. But this agony of mind was 
exchanged for transport, when he learned that, by the 
performance of certain conditions before death, the state 
of happiness might be secured. His eagerness to learn 
the nature of these terms excited the surprise and even 
the contempt of his sacred teachers. They advised him 
to remain satisfied for the present with the instructions 
he had received, and to defer the remainder of the discus- 
sion till the morrow. 

*^ How r' exclaimed the novice, ^' say you not that 
death may come at any hour? — may it not then come 
this hour? — and what if it should come before I have 
performed these conditions ! Oh ! withhold not this ex- 
cellent knowledge from me a single moment !'' 

The priests then proceeded to explain their Theology 
to their attentive auditor; but who shall describe the 
ecstasy of his happiness when he was given to understand 
that the required conditions were, generally, of easy and 
pleasant performance ; and that the occasional difficulties 
or inconveniences which might attend them would entirely 
cease with the short term of his earthly existence ! 

From that period, continues the legend, the stranger 
devoted himself to the performance of those conditions on 
which he was told his future welfare depended. If ever 
he was tempted for a moment to violate any of the condi- 
tions of his future happiness, he bewailed his own madness 
with agonizing emotions ; and to all the invitations he re- 
ceived from others to do anything inconsistent with his 
real interests, he had but one answer, — ^' Oh,'' he would 
say, " I am to die ! — I am to die !'' Jane Taylor. 



SONG OF THE GREEK BARD. 

The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece ! 

Where burning Sappho loved and sung, 
Where grew the arts of war and peace, — 

Where Delos rose and Phoebus sprung I 



SECT. ir. A COURSE OF READING. 47 

Eternal summer gilds them yet, 
But all, except their sun, is set. 

The Scian and the Teian muse, 

The hero's harp, the lover's lute. 
Have found the fame your shores refuse ; 

Their place of birth alone is mute 
To sounds which echo further west 
Than your sires' " Islands of the Blest." 

The mountains look on Marathon — 

And Marathon looks on the sea ; 
And, musing there an hour alone, 

I dream'd that Greece might still be free ; 
For, standing on the Persian's gTave, 
I could not deem myself a slave. 

A king sat on the rocky brow 

Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis ; 
And ships, by thousands, lay below, 

And men in nations — all were his ! 
He counted them at break of day — 
And when the sun set — where were they ? 

And where are they ? and where art thou, 
My country ? — On thy voiceless shore 

The heroic lay is tuneless now — 
The heroic bosom beats no more ! 

And must thy lyre, so long divine. 

Degenerate into hands like mine ! 

'Tis something in the dearth of fame, 

Though link'd among a fetter' d race, 
To feel at least a patriot's shame. 

Even as I sing, suffuse my face ; 
For what is left the poet here ? 
For Greeks a blush — ^for Greece a tear. 

Must we but weep o'er days more blest ? 

Must we but blush ? — our fathers bled. 
Earth ! render back from out thy breast 

A remnant of our Spartan dead ; 
Of the Three Hundred grant but three, 
To make a new Thermbpylae ! 

What, silent still ! and silent all? 
Ah ! no — ^the voices of the dead 



48 A COURSE OF READlNa. SECT. II* 

Sound like a distant torrent's fallj 

And answer, " Let one living head^. 
But one arise — we come, we come!" 
'Tis but the living who are dumb. 

In vain — ^in vain : strike other chords :: 

Fill high the cup with Samian winet: 
Leave battles to the Turkish hordes, 

And shed the blood of Scio's vine ! 
Hark ! rising to the ignoble call — 
How answers each bold bacchanal ! 

You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, 

Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone ?- 
Of two such lessons, why forget 

The nobler and the manlier one ? 
You have the letters Cadmus gave — 
Think ye he meant them for a slave ? 

Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! 

We will not think of themes like these; 
It made Anacreon's song divine : 

He served — ^but served Polycrates — 
A tyrant ; but our masters then 
Were still, at least, our countrymen. 

The tyrant of the Chersonese 

Was freedom's best and bravest friend ; 

That tyrant was Miltiades ! 
! that the present hour would lend 

Another despot of the kind ! 

Such cliains as his were sure to bind. 

Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! 

On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore, 
Exists the remnant of a line 

Such as the Doric mothers bore ; 
And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, 
The Heracleidan blood might own. 

Trust not for freedom to the Franks — • 
They have a king who buys and sells : 

In native swords, and native ranks, 
The only hope of courage dwells ; 

But Turkish force, and Latin fraud. 

Would break your shield, however broad. 



4 






SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 49 

Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! 

Our virgins dance beneath the shade — 
I see their glorious black eyes shine ; 

But, gazing on each glowing maid, 
My own the burning tear-drop laves. 
To think such breasts must suckle slaves. 

Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, — 
Where nothing, save the waves and I, 

May hear our mutual murmurs sweep ; 
There, swan-like, let me sing and die ; 

A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine — 

Dash down yon cup of Samian wine I Byron. 



raE MALLEABLE METALS. 

Metals, in a perfect state, are easily distinguished from 
other minerals, by a peculiar brilliancy which pervades 
their v^hole substance, by their complete opacity, and 
theu' great weight in proportion to that of other mineral 
substances. When found in a state of combination with 
other substances, they have the name of ores^ and they 
are in general deposited in veins of various thickness, and 
at various depths in the earth. The mode of obtaining 
them is to penetrate from the surface of the earth to the 
vein, and there to follow it, in whatever direction it may 
lie. The hollow places thus formed are called mines, and 
the men employed in them are denominated miners. — 
When the veins are at a great depth, or extend to any 
considerable distance beneath the surface of the earth, it 
is necessary, at intervals, to make openings or shafts^ to 
the surface, for the admission and circulation of the air ; 
and also to draw off the water which collects at the bot- 
tom, by drains, pumps, or steam-engines, as the situation 
or circumstances require. The principle of the malleable 
metals, that is, those metals which are capable of being 
flattened or elongated by the hammer, without tearing or 
breaking, are platina, gold, mercury, silver, copper, iron, 
tin, and lead. ^ 

Platina, one of the most ponderous of metals, is, when 
purified, twenty- three times heavier than water. It is 



50 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. II. 

of a white colour, but not so bright as silver, and is found 
sometimes in considerable masses in mines, but generally 
in small grains in tlie sands of rivers. If platina could be 
obtained in sufficient quantity, it would perhaps be the most 
valuable of all metals. The important uses to which it is ap- 
plicable may easily be imagined when we state that it is 
nearly as hard as iron, that the most intense fire and most 
powerful acids have scarcely any effect upon it, and that it 
is not fusible by the heat of a forge, but requires either the 
concentrated rays of the sun in a burning mirror, the gal- 
vanic electricity, or a flame produced by the agency of oxy- 
gen gas. It is much used for chemical apparatus, and is 
sometimes made into mathematical instruments, pendu- 
lums, and clockwork ; particularly where it is requisite that 
the construction of these should be more than usually cor- 
rect, as platina is not only free from liability to rust, but 
is likewise subject to very little dilatation by heat. This 
extraordinary metal, which ranks next in value to gold, 
was unknown in Europe until about the year 1735, when 
it was first brought from South America by Don Antonio 
Ulloa. 



Gold is a metal of a yellow colour. It is next in 
weight to platina, being nineteen times heavier than 
water ; it is softer than silver, harder than tin, and more 
easily melted than copper. It is found in various states, 
— massive, in grains, and in small branches. It cannot be 
dissolved in any acid except that called aqua regia. Gold 
is obtained chiefly from South America, Russia, Califor- 
nia, and Australia. The mode of extracting it from 
its ore is by reducing it into a fine powder, and mixing 
this powder with quicksilver. The latter having the 
quality of uniting with itself every particle of the 
precious metal, but being incapable of union with the 
other substances, extracts it even from the largest 
portions of earth. The quicksilver, which has absorbed 
the gold, is then separated by means of heat; it flies 
off in vapour, and leaves the other metal in the vessel 
used for the operation. — Gold has been known and in 
request from the very earliest ages of the world. By the 



8SCT. n. A COUSSE OF READINO. 51 

assent of civilized nations, it has become tlie representa- 
tive of wealth under the form of money ; and it is also 
used for goldsmiths' work, in jewellery, and for gilding. 
In each of these its standard or purity is different. That 
denominated coinage^ or sterling gold^ consists of an alloy 
of about twenty-two parts of gold with two parts of cop- 
per ; whilst gold of the new standard^ of which gold 
plate, watch-cases, and many other articles, are made, 
consists of only eighteen parts of gold and six parts of 
copper. Each of these is stamped at Goldsmiths^ Hall ; 
the former with a lion, a leopard's head (the mark of the 
Goldsmiths' Company), a letter denoting the year, the sov- 
ereign's head, and the manufacturer's initials ; the latter 
is stamped with the sovereign's head, the letter for the year, 
a crown, the number 18 to designate its quality, and the 
manufacturer's initials. The coinage-gold of Portugal 
and America is of the same standard as our own ; that 
of France is somewhat inferior ; and Spanish gold is in- 
ferior to the French. The Dutch ducats and some of 
the Moorish coins are of gold unalloyed. Trinket-gold^ 
which is unstamped, is in general much less pure than 
any of the above ; and the pale gold which is used by 
jewellers is an alloy of gold with silver. — The ductility 
and tenacity of this metal, particularly when alloyed with 
copper, are extremely remarkable, and are fully proved 
by the great extent to which a very small quantity of it 
may be beaten into leaves, or drawn into wire. Leaves 
of gold may be beaten so thin, that a single grain may 
be made into fifty- six leaves, each an inch square. These 
leaves are only ^saWo of an inch thick; and the gold 
leaf which is used to cover silver wire is but the twelfth 
part of that thickness. An ounce of gold upon silver 
wire is capable of being extended more than 1300 miles 
in length ; and nineteen ounces of gold, which in the form 
of a cube would not measure more than an inch and a 
quarter on each side, will completely gild a silver wire 
in length sufficient to compass the w^hole earth like a 
hoop. 



52 A COURSE OF READING. ShGT, IT. 

Mercury, in its native state, is called quicksilver, and 
is found in small globules of shining, silvery appearance, 
scattered through different kinds of stones, clay, and ores. 
It is nearly fourteen times heavier than water. The 
principal ore of mercury, and that from which the metal 
is chiefly obtained, is cinnabar. This is of a red colour, 
and consists of mercury mineralized with sulphur. It is 
sometimes found in a massive state, sometimes in grains, 
and sometimes crystallized, and chiefly among rocks of 
the coal-formation. The most productive mines of cinna- 
bar are in the Palatinate in Germany, at Idria in Camiola, 
and at Almaden in Spain. Those of Idria are supposed 
to be more valuable than any of the others. Their 
first discovery, which was more than three hundred years 
ago, was made in a very extraordinary manner. This 
part of the country was then much inhabited by coopers ; 
and one of the men, on retiring from work in the even- 
ing, placed a new tub under a dropping spring, to try if 
it would hold water ; and when he came in the morning, 
he found it so heavy that he could scarcely move it. 
Examining into the cause of this extraordinary circum- 
stance, the man observed that it was owing to a shining 
and ponderous fluid which was at the bottom. The affair 
was noised abroad, and a society of persons was formed 
to search further and discover the mine from which this 
quicksilver had flowed. Such was their success, that 
the reigning duke of Austria paid them a compensation 
for the discovery, and took the mine into his own posses- 
sion. The greatest perpendicular depth of this mine is 
now more than 830 feet. It is descended by buckets, 
or by ladders placed obliquely in a zigzag direction. In 
some parts of the mine the pure metal flows in small 
streams, so that in six hours a man has been known to 
collect more than thirty- six pounds weight of it. In 
other parts it is found in a multitude of little drops, either 
in ores or in clay. The whole produce of the mine is 
said to exceed a hundred tons weight of mercury per an- 
num. It is the singular property of this metal, which 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 53 

has no other alliance whatever with silver than its appear- 
ance, to be capable of division, by the least effort, into an 
indefinite number of particles, each of which assumes a 
spherical form, and to be always in a fluid state in the com- 
mon temperature of our atmosphere. Even during intense 
frost it still retains its fluidity ; but it has lately been ob- 
served, in the North Polar regions, to become solid ; and it 
may also be congealed by extreme cold artificially produced; 
— in which state it may, like the common metals, be beaten 
with a hammer and extended without breaking ; but care 
must be taken that it does not touch the fingers, as it 
would blister them and cause unpleasant sores, in the same 
manner as any burning substance. Being the heaviest of 
all fluids of which we have any knowledge, and not congeal- 
ing in the temperature of our climate, it has been preferred, 
before all others, for barometers, as a measure of the weight 
of the atmosphere. And as heat dilates mercury similarly 
to other fluids, it is likewise made into thermometers. 



Silver is a white, brilliant, sonorous, and ductile metal, 
somewhat more than ten times heavier than water. It 
is found in different states. Of these the principal is 
denominated native silver, from its being nearly in a state 
of purity. Native silver sometimes occurs in small lumps, 
sometimes in a crystallized form, and sometimes in leaves, 
threads, or wire. In many instances the latter are so 
comiected with each other as to resemble the branches of 
trees, in which case the ore is called dendritic. There 
are also several ores of silver, in which this metal is com- 
bined with lead, antimony, arsenic, sulphur, and other 
substances. The silver that is produced from the mines 
of Potosi, in South America, is of the dendritic kind ; 
and is considered by the Spaniards as the purest that is 
known. A range of mountains near Potosi, about twenty 
miles in circumference, is said to be perforated by more 
than 300 shafts, or openings of mines, and to produce, in 
the whole, from 30,000 to 40,000 dollars' worth of ore 
per week. The annual produce of all the silver mines 
in America has been estimated at near £2,400,000 ster- 



54 A COURSE OF READINO. SECT. 11. 

ling. This metal ranks next in value to platina. Like 
gold, it is coined into money, and is manufactured into 
various kinds of utensils, such as goblets, vases, spoons, 
and dishes, which have the general appellation of silver 
plate. For all these purposes it is alloyed with copper, 
which does not affect its whiteness, and is not easily de- 
tected, unless it be in too great proportion; the inten- 
tion of this is to render it harder than it would otherwise 
be, and thereby the better to adapt it to receive fine and 
sharp impressions on being cast. Our standard silver is 
composed of somewhat more than 12|- parts of pure metal 
and one part of copper ; and the metal of this standard 
is used both for silver plate and in the coinage. The 
mark or stamp which is given to it at the Goldsmiths' 
HaU is similar to that which has been explained for ster- 
ling gold. — Silver is nearly as ductile as gold. It may 
be beaten into leaves so thin that a single grain in weight 
will cover a space of more than fifty-one inches ; and it 
may be drawn into wire much finer than a human hair, 
indeed so fine that a single grain of silver has, in this 
form, been extended nearly to the length of 400 feet. It 
is this wire gilded that has the name of gold wire ; and 
what is denominated gold lace is but flattened silver 
thi-ead gilt, twisted round silk, and woven. 



Copper is a red or orange-coloured metal, about nine 
times heavier than water. It is the most sonorous of all 
metals, and, except ii'on, the most elastic. It is found 
under a great variety of forms, sometimes in masses of 
pure metal, but more frequently in combination with 
other substances, particularly sulphur. There are valu- 
able copper mines in every quarter of the world ; and the 
use of copper is probably of greater antiquity than that 
of any other metal. It is mentioned in the Old Testa- 
ment ; and, at a very early period, domestic utensils and 
instruments of war were made of bronze, or a compound 
of copper and tin. Even during the Trojan war, as we 
learn from Homer, the combatants had no other armour 
than what was made of bronze. The uses of copper are 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 55 

numerous and important. When rolled into sheets, be- 
twixt large iron cylinders, it is employed for the covering 
of houses, sheathing the bottoms of ships, and other pur- 
poses. As a covering for houses, copper is lighter than 
slate, but whether it be more durable has not been yet 
ascertained. The coppering of ships tends to facilitate 
their progress through the water, by presenting a smoother 
surface than that of wood, and not permitting shell- ani- 
mals to fasten to it as they do to wood. It likewise pre- 
serves the bottoms of the ships from being punctured by 
marine worms ; and consequently secures to them a longer 
duration than they would otherwise have. Plates of 
copper are also used by artists for engraving pictures 
upon, either by cutting them with a sharp steel instru- 
ment, or corroding them with aquafortis, in lines drawn 
by a needle through a thin coat of wax spread upon their 
surface; and this metal likewise is manufactured into 
various kinds of cooking utensils. Great care, however, 
ought to be taken, that acid liquors, or even water in- 
tended for drinking, or to be mixed with food, be not suf- 
fered to stand long in such vessels, otherwise they will 
dissolve so much of the metal as to give them disagree- 
able and even poisonous qualities. All vessels formed of 
this metal which are employed in cookery, ought to have 
their inner surface covered with a coat of tin. Of all 
metals, copper is the most susceptible of alloy. Prince's 
Metal, or Pinchbeck, is an alloy containing three parts of 
zinc and four of copper. Bronze and the metal of which 
cannons are made consist of from six to twelve parts of 
tin combined with 100 parts of copper. Bell-metal, or 
the metal of which bells are formed, is usually composed 
of three parts of copper and one of tin. 



Iron is a metal of a livid grayish colour, hard and elas- 
tic, and capable of receiving a high polish. Its weight is 
nearly eight times as great as that of water. Of all the 
metals there is none which, on the whole, is so useful, 
or is so copiously and variously dispersed as iron. In- 
deed its value is beyond all estimate, — infinitely greater 



56 A COUKSE OP READING, SECT. II. 

than even that of gold. By means of it the earth has 
been cultivated and subdued; and without it, houses, 
cities, and ships, could not have been built, the arts prac- 
tised, science advanced, or man civilized. Its uses were 
ascertained at a very early period of the world. Moses 
speaks of furnaces for iron, and of the ores from which it 
was extracted, and tells us that swords, knives, axes, 
and instruments for cutting stones, were, in his time, all 
made of this metal. The most considerable iron mines at 
present existing are those in Great Britain and France. 
After iron ore is dug out of the earth, it is crushed or 
broken into small pieces by machinery. It is next wash- 
ed, to detach the grosser particles of earth which adhere 
to it. This operation ended, it is roasted in kilns formed 
for the purpose, by which the sulphur, and some other 
substances that are capable of being separated by heat, 
are detached. It is then thrown into a furnace, mixed 
with a certain portion of limestone and charcoal, to be 
melted. Near the bottom of the furnace there is a tap- 
hole, through which the liquid metal is discharged into 
furrows made in a bed of sand. The larger masses, or 
those which flow into the main furrow, are called sows ; 
the smaller ones are denominated pigs of iron ; and the 
general name of the metal in this state is cast iron. With 
us iron is employed in three states, — of cast iron, wrought 
iron, and steel. 

Cast Iron is distinguishable by its properties of being, 
in general, so hard as to resist both the hammer and the 
file ; being extremely brittle, and, for the most part, of a 
dark-gray or blackish colour : — and a great number of use- 
ful and important articles are formed of it, such as grates, 
chimney-backs, pots, boilers, pipes, and cannon-shot ; all 
of which are made by casting ladlefuls of the liquid 
metal into moulds that are shaped for the purpose in sifted 
sand. The process of converting cast iron into wrought 
or maleahle iron is called blooming. The cast iron is 
thrown into the furnace, and kept melted by the flame of 
combustibles, which is made to play upon its surface. 
Here it is sufi'ered to continue for about two hours, a 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 57 

workman constantly stimng it, until, notwithstanding 
tlie continuance of the heat, it gradually acquires con- 
sistency and congeals. It is then taken out while hot, 
and violently beaten with a large hammer worked by 
machinery. In this state it is formed into bars for sale. 

Steel is usually made by a process called cementation. 
This consists in keeping bars of iron in contact with 
powdered charcoal, during a state of ignition^ for several 
hours, in earthen troughs or crucibles, the mouths of 
which are stopped up with clay. Steel, if heated to red- 
ness, and suffered to cool slowly, becomes soft; but if 
plunged, whilst hot, into cold water, it acquires extreme 
hardness. It may be rendered so hard as even to scratch 
glass, and at the same time it becomes more brittle and 
elastic than it was before. Although thus hardened, it 
may have its softness and ductility restored, by being 
again heated, and suffered to cool slowly. A piece of 
polished steel, in heating, assumes first a straw-yellow 
colour, then a lighter yellow, next becomes purple, then 
violet, then red, next deep blue, and last of all bright 
blue. At this period it becomes redhot, the colours dis- 
appear, and metallic scales are formed upon and incrust 
its surface. All these different shades of colour indicate 
the different tempers that the steel acquires by the in- 
crease of heat, from that which renders it proper for files, 
to that which fits it for the manufacture of watch-springs. 
Mr Stoddart has availed himself of this property to give 
to surgical and other cutting instruments those degrees 
of temper which their various uses require. All kinds of 
edge-tools, where excellence is required, are made of 
steel ; and a steel instrument may be immediately known 
from an iron one, by letting fall upon it a drop of aqua- 
fortis somewhat diluted with water. If it be steel, this 
will occasion a black spot ; but if it be iron, it wiU not 
have this effect. 

Meteoric Stones and Loadstones are species of iron ore. 



Tin is a white metal, somewhat like silver in ap- 



58 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. n. 

pearance, but it is considerably lighter — being only 
seven times heavier than water — and makes a crack- 
ling noise when bent. It is very soft and ductile, and has 
but little elasticity. The principal tin-mines which are 
known to us are those of Cornwall, Devonshire, Germany; 
the island of Banca and peninsula of Malacca in India ; 
and ChUi and Mexico in America. Of these the most 
celebrated are the mines of Cornwall, which are known 
to have been worked before the commencement of the 
Christian era. When the tin-ore has been dug from 
the earth, it is thrown into heaps, and broken to pieces. 
After this it is washed, and subsequently roasted in 
an intense heat, for the purpose of dissipating some 
of the substances with which it is combined. It is 
lastly melted in a furnace, and thereby reduced to a 
metallic state. The metal is then poured into quad- 
rangular moulds of stone, each containing about 320 
pounds weight. These have the denomination of hlock- 
tin. 

The article usually called tin^ or tin-plate^ and in 
Scotland white-iron^ of which saucepans, boilers, drink- 
ing vessels, and other utensils of domestic economy 
are made, consists only of thin iron plate coated with 
tin. It is thus formed : — The iron plates are immersed 
in water rendered slightly acid by spirit of salt or 
spirit of vitriol ; after which, to clean them completely, 
they are scoured quite bright. These plates are then 
each dipped into a vessel fiUed with melted tin, the 
surface of which is covered with suet, pitch, or resin, 
to prevent the formation of dross upon it. The tin 
not only covers the surface of the iron, but completely 
penetrates it; giving to its whole substance a white 
colour. Sheet-iron is usually tinned before, but cop- 
per always after it has been formed into utensils. 
The object to be attained by the tinning of copper is 
to prevent the vessels made of that metal from being 
corroded, and to preserve the food prepared in them 
from being mixed with any particles of that poisonous 



BECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 59 

substance called verdigris, wliicli is formed by such cor- 



rosion. 



Lead is a heavy metal, of pale and livid gray colour 
when broken, not sonorous when pure, very flexible, and 
so soft that it may be marked with the nail. It stains 
paper or the fingers of a bluish colour, and is more than 
eleven times heavier than water. The most common state 
in which lead is found is in combination with sulphur and 
a small portion of silver. This ore is kno^vn by the name 
of galena^ and is frequently in the form of blackish cubi- 
cal crystals. Great Britain possesses the most important 
lead-mines in the world ; and those that are best known 
are in the counties of Flint and Derby in England, and 
in Lanarkshire in Scotland. When the ore is brought 
out of the mine it is sorted and washed, to free it from 
dirt and rubbish. After this it is spread on a board; 
the best pieces are picked out and separated ; and those 
containing ore, mixed with spar or other substances, are 
placed separate, to be again broken, and again picked. 
After the ore, by picking and washing, has been suffi- 
ciently cleansed from extraneous matters, it is roasted in 
a kind of kiln to free it from the sulphur that is com- 
bined with it. The next process is to mix it with a cer- 
tain quantity of coke, charcoal, or peat, and submit it to 
the smelting-fumace. In this furnace there are tap- 
holes which, when the lead is melted, are opened, and the 
metal, in a fluid state, runs into a large iron ./pan. The 
dross which floats on its surface is now skimmed off"; and 
the metal is taken out by ladles, and poured into cast- 
iron moulds, with round ends. The lead thus formed is 
ready for use, and has the name of pig-lead. According 
to their size, the pieces that are thus cast have the appel- 
lation of pigs and half-pigs. Lead is much employed in 
the useful arts. When rolled between iron cylinders to 
a requisite state of thinness and uniformity, it is used for 
the covering of houses and churches, notwithstanding the 
danger, in case of fire, to persons within, who are exposed 
to a shower of burning metal. It is cast into pipes, cis- 



60 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. II. 

terns, and reservoirs for water, as well as into large boil- 
ers for chemical purposes. But all culinary or domestic 
vessels made of lead, particularly if intended for the keep- 
ing of acid liquors, should carefully be avoided, as the 
surface of the lead is thereby corroded, and the liquid 
contained in them is rendered poisonous. Great quan- 
tities of lead are also consumed for the making of shot 
For this purpose the metal is alloyed with arsenic, to 
render it more brittle, and to render the grains more 
round and perfect than they otherwise would be. Shot is 
formed by dropping the melted alloy into water, through 
an iron or copper frame, perforated with round holes, ac- 
cording to the size required. For the smallest shot the 
elevation is about ten feet above the water, and for the 
largest about a hundred and fifty feet. 

Abridged from Bingley's Useful Knowledge, 



DETACHED SELECTIONS FROM SHAKSPEARE. 

Heaven doth with us as we with torches do : 

Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues 

Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike 

As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd, 

But to fine issues. Nature never lends 

The smallest scruple of her excellence ; 

But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines 

Herself the glory of a creditor, 

Both thanks and use. 



Now, by two-headed Janus, 

Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time : 

Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, 

And laugh, like parrots, at a bagpiper ; 

And others of such ^dnegar aspect. 

That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile. 

Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. 



The quality of mercy is not strain'd ; 

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven, 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 61 

Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless'd ; 

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes : 

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes 

The throned monarch better than his crown : 

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 

The attribute to awe and majesty, 

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; 

But mercy is above this sceptred sway ; 

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings ; 

It is an attribute to God himself; 

And earthly power doth then show likest God's 

When mercy seasons justice. 



How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! 
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music 
Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, 
Become the touches of sweet harmony. 



'Tis the mind that makes the body rich : 

And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, 

So honour peereth in the meanest habit. 

What ! is the jay more precious than the lark, 

Because his feathers are more beautiful ? 

Or is the adder better than the eel. 

Because his painted skin contents the eye ? 

0, no, good Kate ; neither art thou the worse 

For this poor furniture and mean array. 



Hear him but reason in divinity. 

And, all-admiring, with an inward wish 

You would desire the king were made a prelate : 

Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs. 

You would say, — it hath been all-and-all his study : 

List his discourse of war, and you shaU hear 

A fearful battle render'd you in music : 

Turn him to any cause of policy. 

The Gordian knot of it he will unloose 

Familiar as his garter ; that, when he speaks, 

The air, a chartered libehine, is stiU, 

And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, 

To steal his sweet and honeyed sentences. 



62 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. H. 

So may he rest ; his faults lie gently on him ! 
Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, 
And yet with charity, — He was a man 
Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking 
Himself with princes ; one that by suggestion 
Tied all the kingdom ; simony was fair play ; 
His own opinion was his law ; in the presence 
He would say untruths ; and be ever double, 
Both in his words and meaning ; he was never, 
But where he meant to ruin, pitiful : 
His promises were, as he then was, mighty ; 
But his performance, as he is now, nothing. 
Of his own body he was ill, and gave 
The clergy ill example. 

Grif, Noble Madam, 

Men's evil manners live in brass ; their virtues 
We write in water. 

This cardinal, 
Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly 
Was fashion'd to ma4h honour. From his cradle 
He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; 
Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading ; 
Lofty and sour to them that loved him not ; 
But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer ; 
And though he were unsatisfied in getting, 
(Which was a sin), yet in bestowing, madam. 
He was most princely. Ever witness for him 
Those twins of learning that he raised in you, 
Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with hinij 
Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ; 
The other, though unfinished, yet so famous. 
So excellent in art, and still so rising. 
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue : 
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; 
For then, and not till then, he felt himself, 
And found the blessedness of being little : 
And, to add greater honours to his age 
Than man could give him, he died fearing God. 



EUROPEAN SCENES. 

A Winter Landscape in Russia. — Nothing interesting 



SECT. n. A COURSE OF READING. 63 

presenting itself, we travelled onwards, through towns 
and villages, and over a dreary country rendered ten 
thousand times more so by the season. All around was 
a vast wintry flat; and frequently not a vestige of man 
or of cultivation was seen, not even a solitary tree, to 
break the boundless expanse of snow. Indeed, no idea 
can be formed of the immense plains we traversed, unless 
you imagine yourself at sea, far, far from the sight of 
land. The Arabian deserts cannot be more awful to the 
eye than the appearance of this scene. Such is the gen- 
eral aspect of the country during the rigours of winter, 
with now and then an exception of a large forest skirting 
the horizon for a considerable length of way. At inter- 
vals, as you shoot along, you see openings amongst its 
lofty trees, from which emerge picturesque groups of na- 
tives and their one-horse sledges, whereon are placed the 
different articles of commerce, going to various parts of 
this empire. They travel in vast numbers, and from all 
quarters, seldom fewer than one hundred and fifty in a 
string, having a driver to every seventh horse. The effect 
of this cavalcade at a distance is very curious ; and in a 
morning, as they advance towards you, the scene is as 
beautiful as striking. The sun, then rising, throws his 
rays across the snow, transforming it to the sight into a 
surface of diamonds. From the cold of the night every 
man and horse is incrusted with these frosty particles ; 
and the beams falling on them too, seem to cover their 
rude faces and rugged habits with a tissue of the most 
dazzling brilliants. The manes of the horses, and the 
long beards of the men, from the quantity of congealed 
breath, have a particularly glittering effect. 

Sir R. K. Porter. 



Moscow, — We amved at the season of the year in 
which this city is most interesting to strangers. Moscow 
is in everything extraordinary ; as well in disappointing 
expectation as in surpassing it ; in causing wonder and 
derision, pleasure and regret. Let me conduct the reader 
back with me again to the gate by which we entered, and 



64 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. II. 

thence througli the streets. Numerous spires, glittering 
with gold, amidst burnished domes and painted palaces, 
appear in the midst of an open plain, for several versts 
before you reach the gate. Having passed, you look 
about and wonder what is become of the city, or where 
you are, and are ready to ask, once more. How far is it 
to Moscow? They will tell you, " This is Moscow ! " and 
you behold nothing but a wide and scattered suburb, 
huts, gardens, pigsties, brick walls, churches, dunghills, 
palaces, timber-yards, warehouses, and a refuse, as it 
were, of materials sufficient to stock an empire with 
miserable towns, and miserable villages. One might imag- 
ine all the states of Europe and Asia had sent a build- 
ing, by way of representative, to Moscow; and under 
this impression the eye is presented with deputies from 
all countries, holding congress : timber huts from regions 
beyond the Arctic : plastered palaces from Sweden and 
Denmark, not whitewashed since their arrival; painted 
walls from the Tyrol ; mosques from Constantinople ; 
Tartar temples from Bucharia; pagodas, pavilions, and 
verandas, from China ; cabarets from Spain ; dungeons, 
prisons, and public offices from France; architectural 
ruins from Rome ; terraces and trellisses from Naples ; 
and warehouses from Wapping. 

Having heard accounts of its immense population, you 
wander through deserted streets. Passing suddenly to- 
wards the quarter where the shops are situated, you 
might walk upon the heads of thousands. The daily 
throng is there so immense, that, unable to force a pass- 
age through it, or assign any motive that might convene 
such a multitude, you ask the cause, and are told that it 
is always the same. Nor is the costume less various than 
the aspect of the buildings; Greeks, Turks, Tartars, 
Cossacks, Chinese, Muscovites, English, French, Italians, 
Poles, Germans, all parade in the habits of their respec- 
tive countries. Dr E. D. Clarke. 



Mount Etna. — This single mountain contains an epi- 
tome of the different climates throughout the world, pre- 



SECT. n. A COURSE OF READING. 65 

senting at once all the seasons of the year, and all the 
varieties of produce. It is divided into three distinct 
zones or regions, which are known by the names of the 
cultivated region, the woody or temperate region, and the 
frigid or desert region. The former of these extends 
through twelve miles of the ascent towards the summit, 
and is almost incredibly abundant in pastures and fruit- 
trees of every description. It is covered with towns, vil- 
lages, and monasteries; and the number of inhabitants 
distributed over its surface is estimated at 120,000. In 
ascending to the woody or temperate region, the scene 
changes; it is a new climate, a new creation. Below, 
the heat is suffocating; but here the air is mild and 
fresh. The turf is covered with aromatic plants; and 
gulfs, which formerly ejected torrents of fire, are changed 
into woody valleys. The last, or desert region, com- 
mences more than a mile above the level of the sea. The 
lower part is covered with . snow in winter only ; but on 
the upper half of this sterile district the snow constantly 
lies : — 

Sometimes the pencil, in cool airy haUs, 
Bade the gay bloom of vernal landscapes rise, 
Or Autumn's varied shades imbrown the walls : 
Now the black tempest strikes the astonish' d eyes, 
Now down the steep the flashing torrent flies ; 
The trembling sun now plays o'er ocean blue, 
And now rude mountains frown amid the skies ; 
Whate'er Lorraine light-touch'd with softening hue, 
Or savage Rosa dash'd, or learned Poussin drew. 

Thomson. 

On the vastness and beauty of the prospect from the 
summit of Etna, all authors agree. M. Houel was sta- 
tioned there at sunrise, when the horizon was clear, and 
without a single cloud. The coast of Calabria was, he 
says, undistinguishable from the adjoining sea ; but in a 
short time a fiery radiance began to appear from behind 
those Italian hills which bounded the eastern part of the 
prospect. The fleecy clouds, which generally appear 
early in the morning, were tinged with purple : the at- 
mosphere became strongly illuminated, and, reflecting the 

d2 



66 A COURSE OP EEADINa. SECT. II. 

rays of the sun, seemed to be filled with a bright reful- 
gence of flame. Although the heavens were thus enlight- 
ened, the sea still retained its dark azure, and the fields 
and foi'ests did not yet reflect the rays of the sun. The 
gradual rising of this luminary, however, soon difiused 
light over the hills which lie below the peak of Etna. 
This last stood like an island in the midst of the ocean, 
with luminous points multiplying every moment around, 
and spreading over a wider extent with the greatest ra- 
pidity. It was, said he, as if the world had been observed 
suddenly to spring from the night of non-existence. The 
most sublime object, however, which the summit of Etna 
presents, is the immense mass of its own colossal body. 
Its upper region exhibits rough and craggy cliffs, rising 
perpendicularly, fearful to the view, and surrounded by 
an assemblage of fugitive clouds, to increase the wild va- 
riety of the scene. Amid the multitude of woods in the 
middle or temperate region are numerous mountains, 
which, in any other situation, would appear of a gigantic 
size, but which, compared to Etna, are mere molehills. 
Lastly, the eye contemplates with admiration the lower 
region, the most extensive of the three, adorned with ele- 
gant villas and castles, verdant hills and flowery fields, 
and terminated by the extensive coast, where, to the 
south, stands the beautiful city of Catania, to which the 
waves of the neighbouring sea serve as a mirror. 

Clarke's Wonders of the World. 



The Alps, — Who first beholds the Alps — that mighty 
chain 
Of mountains stretching on from east to west, 
So massive, yet so shadowy, so ethereal, 
As to belong rather to heaven than earth — 
But instantly receives into his soul 
A sense, a feeUng that he loses not, 
A something that informs him 'tis a moment 
Whence he may date henceforward and for ever ? 

To me they seem'd the barriers of a world, 
Saying, Thus far, no farther ! and as o'er 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 67 

The level plain I travell'd silently, 

Nearing them more and more, day after day, 

My wandering thoughts my only company, 

And they before me still, oft as I look'd, 

A strange delight mingled with fear came o'er me, 

A wonder as at things I had not heard of! 

Oft as I look'd, I felt as though it were 

For the first time ! 

Great was the tumult there^^ 
Deafening the din, when in barbaric pomp 
The Carthaginian on his march to Rome 
Enter'd their fastnesses. Trampling the snows. 
The war-horse rear'd ! and the tower'd elephant 
Upturn' d his trunk into the murky sky, 
Then tumbled headlong, swallow'd up and lost. 
He and his rider. 

Now the scene is changed 
And o'er Mount Cenis, o'er the Simplon winds 
A path of pleasure. Like a silver zone 
Flung about carelessly, it shines afar. 
Catching the eye in many a broken link. 
In many a turn and traverse as it glides ; 
And oft above and oft below appears. 
Seen o'er the wall by him who journeys up. 
As though it were another, not the same. 
Leading along he knows not whence or whither. 
Yet through its fairy course, go where it will, 
The torrent stops it not, the rugged rock 
Opens and lets it in ; and on it runs, 
Winning its easy way from clime to clime 
Through glens lock'd up before. 

Not such my path ! 
Mine, but for those, who, like Jean Jaques, delight 
In dizziness, gazing and shuddering on 
Till fascination comes and the brain turns ! 
Mine, though I judge but from my ague-fits 
Over the Drance, just where the Abbot feU, 
The same as Hannibal's. 

^ 

But now 'tis past. 
That turbulent Chaos; and the promised land 



68 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. II. 

Lies at my feet in all its loveliness ! 

To liim who starts up from a terrible dream, 

And lo, the sun is shining, and the lark 

Singing aloud for joy, to him is not 

Such sudden ravishment as now I feel 

At the first glimpses of fair Italy. Rodgers. 



Thunder- Stor7n among the Alps. 

The sky is changed ! — and such a change 1 Oh night, 
And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong. 
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light 
Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along 
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among. 
Leaps the live thunder ! not from one lone cloud. 
But every mountain now hath found a tongue, 
And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, 
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! 

And this is in the night : most glorious night ! 
Thou wert not sent for slumber 1 let me be 
A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, — 
A portion of the tempest and of thee I 
How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea. 
And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! 
And now again 'tis black — and now the glee 
Of the loud hill shakes with its mountain mirth, 
As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's bii'th. 

Byron. 



Pompeii. — The shroud of years thrown back, thou dost 
revive, 
Half-raised, half-buried, dead, yet still alive I 
Gathering the world around thee, to admire 
Thy disinterment, and with hearts on fire, 
To catch the form and fashion of the time 
When Pliny lived and thou wert in thy prime ; 
So strange thy resurrection, it may seem 
Less waking life than a distressful dream. 

Hush'd is this once-gay scene, nor murmurs more 
The city's din, the crowd's tumultuous roar, 



SECT. n. A COURSE OF READING. 69 

The laugh convivial, and the chiming sound 
Of golden goblets with Falemian crown'd ; 
The mellow breathings of the Lydian flute, 
And the sweet drip of fountains as they shoot 
From marble basements, — these, all these are mute. 
Closed are her springs, unnumber'd fathoms deep, 
Her splendid domes are one dismantled heap. 
Her temples soil'd, her statues in the dust. 
Her tamish'd medals long devour'd by rust ; 
Its rainbow-pavements broken from the bath, 
The once-throng'd Forum — an untrodden path ; 
The fanes of love — forgotten cells ; the shrines 
Of vaunted gods — inum'd in sulphur-mines ; 
The abodes of art, of luxury, and taste — 
Tombs of their once-glad residents — a waste, 
O'er which compassionate years have gradual thrown 
The trailing vine, and bade the myi*tle moan. 

Lyrical Gems, 



Chreece. — Clime of the unforgotten brave ! 
Whose land from plain to mountain-cave 
Was Freedom's home or Glory's grave — 
Shrine of the mighty ! can it be, 
That this is all remains of thee ? 
Approach, thou craven crouching slave — 
Say, is not this Thermopylae ? 
These waters blue that round you lave. 
Oh servile offspring of the free — 
Pronounce what sea, what shore is this ? 
The gulf, the rock of Salamis ! 
These scenes — their story not unknown — 
Arise, and make again your own ; 
Snatch from the ashes of your skes 
The embers of their former fires, 
And he who in the strife expu'es 
Will add to theirs a name of fear, 
That tyranny shall quake to hear, 
And leave his sons a hope, a fame, 
They too will rather die than shame ; 
For Freedom's battle once begun, 
Bequeath' d by bleeding Sire to Son, 
Though baffled oft is ever won. 



70 A COURSE OF READING. SECT» H. 

Bear witness, Greece, thy living page, 

Attest it many a deathless age ; 

While kings in dusty darkness hid 

Have left a nameless pyramid, 

Thy heroes— though the general doom 

Hath swept the column from then' tomb, 

A mightier monument command, 

The mountains of their native land ! 

There points thy Muse to stranger's eye 

The graves of those that cannot die ! 

'Twere long to tell, and sad to trace, 

Each step from splendour to disgrace ; 

Enough — ^no foreign foe could quell 

Thy soul, till from itself it feU ; 

Yes, self-abasement paved the way 

To villain-bonds and despot-sway. Byron. 



Sparta, — The best geographical works apprize the 
reader that Misitra is not ancient Lacedaemon ; but I 
had forgotten the circumstance. Judge then of my em- 
barrassment when, from the top of the castle of Misitra, 
I persisted in the attempt to discover the city of Lycur- 
gus in a town absolutely modem. " This Misitra,^' said 
I to the Cicerone, "is Lacedaemon, is it not?" — " Sig- 
nor; Lacedsemop ? What did you say?" rejoined he. 
"Is not this Lacedaemon, or Sparta?" — "Sparta; what 
do you mean ?" — " I ask you if Misitra is Sparta?" — " I. 
don't understand you." — "What! you a Greek, you a 
Lacedaemonian, and not know the name of Sparta?" — 
" Sparta 1 yes I great republic ; celebrated Lycur- 
gus." — " Is Misitra then Lacedaemon ? " The Greek 
nodded in affirmation. I was overjoyed. " Now," I re- 
sumed, " explain to me what I see. What part of the 
town is that?" I pointed at the same time to the quarter 
before me a little to the right. " Mesochorion," an- 
swered he. "That I know perfectly well; but what 
part of Lacedaemon was it?" — " I don't know." I was 
beside myself! "At least show me the river," cried I, 
and repeated, " Potamos, Potamos !" My Greek pointed 
to the stream called the Jews' River. " What, is that 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 71 

the Eurotas I Impossible ! Tell me where is the Vasili- 
potamos?" The Cicerone, after many gestures, pointed 
to the right towards Amyclse. " Where then is Sparta ? 
Have I come so far without being able to discover it ? 
Must I return without beholding its ruins?" I was 
heartily vexed. As I was going down from the castle, 
the Greek exclaimed, " Your Lordship, perhaps, means 
Palaeochori?" At the mention of this name I recollected 
the passage of D'Anville, and cried out in my turn, 
" Yes ; Palaeochori ! the old city, where is that ? — 
Where is Palaeochori?" — "Yonder, at Magoula," said 
the Cicerone, pointing to a white cottage with some trees 
about it, at a considerable distance in the valley. Tears 
came into my eyes when I fixed them on this miserable 
hut, erected on the forsaken site of one of the most re- 
nowned cities of the universe, now the only object that 
marks the spot where Sparta flourished, the solitary hab- 
itation of a goatherd, whose whole wealth consists in 
the grass that grows upon the graves of Agis and of Le- 
onidas. Chateaubriand. 



Grecian Scenery, — We passed Macronisi^ once called 
Helena, because Helen is said to have landed here, after 
her expulsion from Troy; and we had such a glorious 
prospect of this island, and of the temple of Minerva 
Sunias standing upon the Cape, together with other dis- 
tant objects, that we could recollect nothing like it : such 
a contrast of colours ; such an association of the wonders 
of nature and of art ; such perfection of grand and beau- 
tiful perspective, as no expression of perceptible properties 
can convey to the minds of those who have not beheld 
the objects themselves. Being well aware of the transi- 
tory nature of impressions made upon the memory by 
sights of this kind, the author wrote a description of 
this scene while it was actually before his eyes ; but how 
poor is the effect produced by detailing the parts of a 
view in a narrative, which ought to strike as a whole 
upon the sense ! He may tell indeed of the dark-blue sea 



72 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. 11. 

streaked witli hues of deepest purple— of imbrowning 
shadows — of lights eflFulgent as the sun — of marble pil- 
lars beaming a radiant brightness upon lofty precipiceSy 
whose sides are diversified by refreshing verdure, and by 
hoary mosses, and by gloomy and naked rocks; or by 
brighter surfaces reflecting the most vivid and varied 
tints; orange, red, and gray: to these he may add an 
account of distant summits, more intensely azured than 
the clear and cloudless sky — of islands dimly seen through 
silvery mists upon the wide expanse of water, shining to- 
wards the horizon as it were "a sea of glass ;*' — and 
when he has exhausted his vocabulary of every colour and 
shape exhibited by the face of nature or by the works of 
art, although he may not have deviated from the truth 
in any part of his description, how little and how inefiec- 
tual will be the result of his undertaking I 

Dr E. D. Clarke. 



PROPERTIES OP FREE CALORIC ERADIATION 

CONDUCTORS. 

Heat^ strictly speaking, is the name of a sensation pro- 
duced in animated bodies; but custom has adapted it 
likewise to inanimate matter; and we say, the heat of 
the sun, or the heat of an oven, just as readily as the heat 
which these bodies are capable of exciting. It was with 
a view to avoid the confusion which arose from thus con- 
founding the cause and effect, that modern chemists 
adopted the new word caloric to denote the principle 
which produces heat; and it is m this sense that the 
word is generally employed in modem books of science. 

Caloric is supposed to be a fluid of inappreciable te- 
nuity, which is distributed in various proportions among 
the particles of bodies ; and it is called free caloric or 
heat of temperature, whatever be its degree, or whatever 
the source whence it is derived, provided it is perceptible 
by the senses, or affects the thermometer. Free caloric 
always tends to diff'use itself equally; in other words, 
when two bodies are of different temperatures, the warmer 



i 



SECT. II. A COURSE OP READING. 73 

gradually parts with its caloric to the colder, till they are 
both brought to the same temperature. Thus, when a 
thermometer is applied to a hot body it receives caloric, 
when to a cold one it communicates part of its own ca- 
loric, and this communication continues until the ther- 
mometer and the body arrive at the same temperature. 
Cold is not a positive quality, but merely the diminution 
of heat. When you lay your hand on a marble table 
you indeed feel it positively cold ; but the cold you experi- 
ence consists merely in the loss of caloric that your hand 
sustains whilst its temperature is being brought to an 
equilibrium with the marble. If you lay a piece of ice 
upon the table, you will find that the contrary effect will 
take place, — ^the ice will be melted by the heat which it 
abstracts from the marble. But not only do the hotter 
bodies emit rays of caloric to the colder ; there seems to 
be a reciprocal radiation among bodies. All bodies what- 
ever appear to be constantly radiating or emitting caloric ; 
the hotter emit it to the colder, and the colder to the 
hotter; nor is it more extraordinary that a hot body 
should receive caloric from a cold one, than that a candle 
should send forth rays of light to the sun, which yet 
must necessarily happen. Bodies that are of the same 
temperature give out and absorb equal quantities, so that 
no variation of temperature is produced in them; but 
when one body contains more caloric than another, the 
exchange is always in favour of the colder body, until an 
equal diflfusion is effected : this is the case when the 
marble table cools your hand, and when it melts the ice. 

Different bodies (or rather surfaces) possess the power 
of radiating caloric in very different degrees. From a 
series of ingenious experiments made by Sir Jobn Leslie 
on this subject, it appears that black surfaces radiate 
most, white next, and polished surfaces the least of all. 
Hence it is that light- coloured clothes, in cold weather, 
keep us warmer than black ones ; hence also a metallic 
vessel preserves the heat t>f the liquid within better than 
one of any other materials ; silver teapots, for instance, 
make better tea than those of earthenware; and hence 



74 A COURSE OF READINa. SECT. H. 

steam-pipes, intended to convey heat to a distant apart- 
ment, are made bright in their course, but darkened at 
their destination. The property that different surfaces 
possess of radiating in different degrees may appear to be 
at variance with the doctrine respecting the equilibrium 
of caloric, inasmuch as it would seem to imply that 
those bodies which radiate most must ultimately become 
coldest. But it is to be recollected that the power of 
absorbing caloric corresponds with and is proportionate 
to that of radiation ; so that, in equal temperatures, bodies 
compensate for the loss they sustain in consequence of 
their greater radiation by their greater absorption. 

In establishing an equihbrium of temperature, caloric 
is distributed among the surrounding objects, not only by 
radiation, or in consequence of an interchange established 
from a distance, but also by communication, or through 
the means of intermediate bodies. Caloric passes through 
bodies with different degrees of velocity. Some sub- 
stances oppose very little impediment to its passage, 
while it is transmitted slowly by others. Daily experi- 
ence teaches, that though we cannot leave one end of a 
rod of iron for some time in the fire, and then touch its 
free extremity, without danger of being burnt, yet this 
may be done with perfect safety with a rod of glass or of 
wood. The caloric will speedily traverse the iron bar, 
so that, at the distance of a foot from the fire, it is im- 
possible to support its heat ; while we may hold a piece 
of redhot glass two or three inches from its extremity, 
or keep a piece of burning charcoal in the hand, though 
the part in combustion is only a few lines removed from 
the skin. The observation of these and similar facts has 
led to a division of bodies into conductors and non-con- 
ductors of caloric. The former division, of course, in- 
cludes those bodies which allow caloric to pass freely 
through their substance, such as metals; and the latter 
comprises those which do not give an easy passage to it, 
such as stones, glass, wood, and charcoal. 

Various methods have been adopted for determining 
the relative conducting power of different substances. 



SECT. n. A COURSE OF READING. 75 

The most convenient is that of Ingenhouz. He covered 
little rods of the same form, size, and length, but of dif- 
ferent materials, with a layer of wax, plunged their ex- 
tremities into heated oil, and noted to what distance the 
wax was melted on each during the same interval. The 
metals were found, by this method, to conduct caloric 
better than any other substances ; and of the metals, 
silver is the best conductor ; gold comes next ; then tin 
and copper, which are nearly equal ; then iron, platinum, 
and lead. 

An ingenious plan was adopted by Count Rumford for 
ascertaining the relative conducting powers of the differ- 
ent materials employed for clothing. He enveloped a 
thermometer in a glass cylinder blown into a ball at its 
extremity, and filled the interstice with the substance 
to be examined. Having heated the apparatus to the 
same temperature in every instance by immersing it in 
boiling water, he transferred it into melting ice, and ob- 
served carefully the number of seconds which elapsed 
during the passage of the thermometer through 135 de- 
grees. When there was air between the thermometer 
and cylinder, the cooling took place in 576 seconds ; 
when the insterstice was filled with fine lint, it took place 
in 1032''; with cotton- wool in 1046''; with sheep's 
wool in 1118"; with raw silk in 1284''; with beaver's 
fur in 1296''; with eider down in 1305'''; and with 
hare's fur in 1315". The general practice of mankind 
is therefore fully justified by experiment. In winter we 
retain the animal heat as much as possible by covering 
the body with bad conductors, as silk or woollen stuflfs ; 
in summer we have recourse to cotton or linen articles 
with an opposite intention. 

A variety of familiar phenomena arises from the differ- 
ence of conducting powers ; thus, if a piece of iron and 
of glass be heated to the same degree, the sensation they 
communicate to the hand is very different ; the iron will 
give the sensation of burning, while the glass feels but 
moderately warm. The quantity of caloric, which in a 
given time may be brought to the surface of the heated 



76 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. 11. 

body, so as to pass into the skin, is much greater in the 
iron than in the glass, and therefore in the former case 
the sensations must be more acute. This proves that 
our sense of touch is a very fallacious test of heat and 
cold ; and hence, when we apply the hand to various ob- 
jects in our apartment, we are very apt to form wrong 
notions of their temperature. The carpet will feel nearly 
as warm as our body ; our book will feel cold, the table 
cold, the marble chimney-piece colder, and the candle- 
stick colder still; yet a thermometer applied to them 
will stand in all at exactly the same elevation. They are 
all colder than the hand ; but those that carry away ca- 
loric most rapidly excite the strongest sensations of cold. 



A DIRGE. 

" Earth to earth, and dust to dust !" 

Here the evil and the just, 

Here the youthful and the old. 

Here the fearful and the bold, 

Here the matron and the maid, 

In one silent bed are laid ; 

Here the vassal and the king 

Side by side lie withering ; 

Here the sword and sceptre rust — 

'' Earth to earth, and dust to dust !" 

Age on age shall roll along, 
O'er this pale and mighty throng ; 
Those that wept them, those that weep, 
All shall with these sleepers sleep, 
Brothers, sisters of the worm, 
Summer's sun, or winter's storm. 
Song of peace, or battle's roar, 
Ne'er shall break their slumbers more. 
Death shall keep his sullen trust — 
" Earth to earth, and dust to dust !" 

But a day is coming fast, 
Earth, thy mightiest and thy last, 
It shall come in fear and wonder. 
Heralded by trump and thunder ; 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 77 

It shall come in strife and toil, 
It shall come in blood and spoil, 
It shall come in empires' groans. 
Burning temples, trampled thrones ; 
Then, Ambition, rue thy lust ! — 
*' Earth to earth, and dust to dust ! " 

Then shall come the judgment-sign ; 
In the east the King shall shine ; 
Flashing from heaven's golden gate, 
Thousands, thousands round his state, 
Spirits ^^th the crown and plume. 
Tremble then, thou sullen tomb ! 
Heaven shall open on our sight, 
Earth be tum'd to living light. 
Kingdoms of the ransom'd just — 
" Earth to earth, and dust to dust 1" 

Then shall, gorgeous as a gem, 

Shine thy mount, Jerusalem ; 

Then shall in the desert rise 

Fruits of more than paradise ; 

Earth by angel feet be trod, 

One great garden of her God ; 

Till are dried the martyrs' tears 

Through a glorious thousand years. 

Now in hope of him we trust — 

" Earth to earth, and dust to dust 1" Croly. 



CLOTHING FROM ANIMALS. — 
LEATHER. 

In the hide of an animal, the hair and skin are two en- 
tirely distinct things, and must be considered separately 
as materials for clothing. The hair of quadrupeds dif- 
fers much in fineness. It is chiefly the smaller species 
which are provided with those soft, thick, glossy cover- 
ings that bear the name of /wr, and they are found in the 
greatest perfection where they are most wanted, that is, 
in the coldest countries. They form indeed the riches 
of those dreary wastes which produce nothing else for 
human use. The animals most esteemed for their fur 
are of the weasel kind : the glutton, the marten, the 



78 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. U, 

sable, and the ermine. Fur is used either growing to 
the skin, or separated from it. In its detached state, it 
is usually employed in making a stuff called felt. The 
scales of hair are so disposed, that they make no resist- 
ance to the finger drawn along the hair from the root to 
the point, but cause a roughness and resistance in a con- 
trary direction. From this property, hairs, when beaten 
or pressed together, are disposed to twist round each 
other, and thus to cohere into a mass. It is in the manu- 
facture of hats that felting is chiefly practised ; and the 
fur used for this purpose is that of the beaver, the rabbit, 
and the hare. 

Wool differs from common hair in being more soft and 
supple, and more disposed to curl. These properties it 
owes to a degree of unctuosity, or greasiness, which is 
with difficulty separated from it. The whole wool, as 
taken from the animal's body, is called a fleece. The 
first operation this undergoes is that of picking and sort- 
ing into the different kinds of wool of which it is com- 
posed. These are next cleansed from marks and stains, 
and freed from their offensive greasiness. The wool is 
then delivered to the wool-comber, who, by means of iron- 
spiked combs, draws out the fibres, smooths and straightens 
them, separates the refuse, and brings it into a state fit 
for the spinner. The spinner forms the wool into threads, 
which are more or less twisted, according to the manu- 
facture for which they are designed ; the more twisted 
forming worsted^ the looser yarn. 

The kinds of stuffs made wholly or partly of wool are 
extremely various ; and Great Britain produces more of 
them, and in general of better quality, than any other 
country. A more perfect manufacture than our broad 
cloths, with respect to beauty and utility, cannot easily be 
conceived. The threads in it are so concealed by a fine 
nap or down raised on the surface, and curiously smoothed 
and glossed, that it looks more like a rich texture of 
nature's forming, than the work of the weaver. Wool, 
in common with other animal substances, takes a dye 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 79 

better tlian any vegetable matters. Our cloths are tbere- 
fore made of every hue that can be desu'ed ; but, in order 
to fit them for the dyer, they are first freed from all 
greasiness and foulness by the operation of fulling, in 
wliich the cloths are beaten by heavy mallets as they lie 
in water, with which a quantity of fuller^ s earth has been 
mixed. This earth unites with the greasy matter, and 
renders it soluble in water ; so that, by continually sup- 
pling fresh streams wliile the beating is going on, all 
the foulness' is at length carried ofi". The operation of 
fulling has the farther effect of thickening the cloth, and 
rendering it more firm and compact, by mixing the 
threads with each other, something in the manner of a 
felt. The cloths of inferior fineness are mostly called 
narrow cloths. Some of those used for greatcoats, by 
their substance and shagginess, resemble the original 
fleece, or rather the fur of a bear, and render unneces- 
sary the use of furred garments. Indeed, with the single 
material of wool, art has been able much better to suit 
the different wants of man in his clothing, than can be 
done by all the productions of nature. What could be 
so comfortable for our beds as blankets ? What so warm 
and at the same time so light, for pained and palsied 
limbs, as flannel? The several kinds of the worsted 
manufacture are excellent for that elasticity which makes 
them sit close to a part without impeding its motions. 
This quality is particularly observable in stockings made 
of worsted. Even the thinnest of the woollen fabrics 
possess a considerable degree of warmth, as appears in 
shawls. The real shawls are made of the fine wool of 
Tibet, in the eastern part of Asia; but they have been 
well imitated by the product of some of our English 
looms. A very different article made of wool, yet equally 
appropriated to luxury, is carpeting. Upon the whole, 
Dyer's praise of wool seems to have a just foundation :— ■ 

" Still shall o'er all prevail the shepherd's stores, 
For numerous uses known : none yield such warmth, 
Such beauteous hues receive, so long endure : 
So pliant to the loom, so various, — ^none.'* 



80 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. II. 

Men must have been far advanced in the observation 
of nature before they found out a material for clothing 
in the labours of a caterpillar. China appears to have 
been the first country to make use of the web spun by 
the silkworm. This creature, which, in its perfect state, 
is a kind of moth, is hatched from the ^^^^ in the form 
of a caterpillar, and passes from that state successively to 
those of a chrysalis, and of a winged insect. While a 
caterpillar, it eats voraciously, its proper and favourite 
food being the leaves of the different species €)f mulberry. 
By this diet it is not only nourished, but is enabled to lay 
up, in receptacles within its body formed for the purpose, 
a kind of transparent glue, which has the property of 
hardening as soon as it comes into the air. When arrived 
at full maturity, it spins itself a web out of this gluey 
matter, within which it is to lie safe and concealed during 
its transformation into the helpless and motionless state of 
a chrysalis. 

The silkworm's web is an oval ball, called a cocoon, of 
a hue varying from light straw colour to full yellow, and 
consisting of a single thread wound round and round, so 
as to make a close and impenetrable covering. The 
thread is so very fine, that, when unravelled, it has been 
measured to 700 or 1000 feet, all rolled within the com- 
pass of a pigeon's ^^^, In a state of nature, the silk- 
worm makes its cocoon upon the mulberry-tree itself, 
where it shines like a golden fruit among the leaves ; 
and in the southern parts of China, and other warm coun- 
tries of the East, it is still suffered to do so, the cocoons 
being gathered from the trees without farther trouble. 
But, in even the warmest climates of Europe, the in- 
clemencies of the weather in spring, when the worms are 
hatched, will not permit the rearing them in the open air. 
They are kept, therefore, in warm but airy rooms, con- 
structed for the purpose; and are regularly fed with 
mulberry-leaves till the period of their full growth. As 
this tree is one of the latest in leafing, silkworms cannot 
advantageously be reared in cold climates. During their 
growth, they several times shed their skins, and many 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 81 

die under this operation. At length they become so full 
of the silky matter, that it gives them a yellowish tinge, 
and they cease to eat. Twigs are then presented to them 
upon little stages of wicker-work, on which they imme- 
diately begin to form their webs. When the cocoons are 
finished, a small number, reserved for breeding, are suf- 
fered to eat their way out in then' butterfly state ; the 
rest are killed in the chrysalis state, by exposing the co- 
coons to the heat of an oven. 

The next business is to wind off the silk. After sep- 
arating a downy matter from the outside of the cocoons, 
called floss^ they are thrown into warm water ; and the 
ends of the threads being found, several are joined to- 
gether, and wound in a single one, upon a reel. This is 
the silk in its natural state, called raw silk. It next un- 
dergoes some operations to cleanse and render it more 
supple ; after which it is made into what is called organ- 
zi?ie, or thrown silk^ being twisted into thread of such dif- 
ferent degrees of fineness as are wanted in the different 
manufactures. This is done in the large w^ay by mills 
of curious construction, which turn at once a vast number 
of spindles, and perform at the same time the processes 
of unwinding, twisting, reeling, &c. The largest and 
most complicated machine for this purpose, in England, 
is at Derby, the model of which was clandestinely brought 
from Italy, where all the branches of the silk manufacture 
have long flourished. 

The excellence of silk, as a material for clothing, con- 
sists in its strength, lightness, lustre, and readiness in 
taking dyes. When little known in Europe, it was 
highly prized for its rarity ; it is now esteemed for its 
real beauty and other valuable qualities. As it can never 
be produced in great abundance, it must always be a dear 
article of clothing. The fabrics of silk are very numer- 
ous, and almost all devoted to the purposes of show and 
luxury. In thickness they vary from the finest gauze to 
velvet, the pile of which renders it as close and warm as 
a fui'. Some of the most beautiful of the silk manufac- 
tures are the glossy satin ; the elegant damask, of which 

£ 



82 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. H. 

the flowers are of the same hue with the piece, and only- 
show themselves from the difference of shade ; the rich 
brocade, in which flowers of natural colours, or of gold 
and silver thread, are interwoven ; and the infinitely 
varied ribands. It is also a common material for stock- 
ings, gloves, buttons, strings, &c., in which its durability 
almost compensates for its dearness. Much is used for 
the purpose of sewing, no other thread approaching it in 
strength. Silk, in short, bears the same superiority 
among clothing materials that gold does among metals ; 
it gives an appearance of richness wherever it is employed, 
and confers a real value. Even the refuse of silk is care- 
fully collected, and serves for useful purposes. The down 
about the cocoons, and the waste separated in the opera- 
tions raw silk undergoes, are spun into a coarser thread, 
of which very serviceable stockings are made ; and the 
interior part of the cocoon is reckoned to be the best ma- 
terial for making artificial flowers. 



Whilst the covering of the skins of animals thus affords 
a valuable material for clothing, the skin itself is not less 
useful. It requires, however, greater previous prepara- 
tion. It is necessary to impregnate it with a matter 
capable of preserving it from putrefaction, and at the 
same time to keep it in a state of flexibility and supple- 
ness. When this is effected, skin becomes leather^ — a 
substance of the highest utility, as well in clothing as 
for numerous other purposes. The principal operation in 
the preparation of leather is called tanning. 

The hide, taken off" with due care by the skinner, is 
first thrown into a pit with water alone, in order to free 
it from dirt. After lying a day or two, it is placed upon 
a solid half-cylinder of stone, called a heam^ where it is 
cleared of any adhering fat or flesh. It is then put into 
a pit containing a mixture of lime and water, in which 
it is kept about a fortnight. The intent of this is to 
swell and thicken the hide, and to loosen the hair. Being 
now replaced upon the beam, the hair is scraped off, and 
it is next committed to the mastering -pit The contents 



SECT. II. A COURSE OF READING. 83 

of this are some animal dung (pigeons^ is preferred) and 
water 5 and its operation is fo reduce tliat thickening 
which the lime had given. After this is effected, it is 
again cleansed on the beam, and is then put into the 
proper tanning liquor, called the ooze^ which is an infusion 
of coarsely powdered oak-bark in water. The bark of 
the oak, as well as every other part of it, abounds in a 
strongly astringent matter; and it is the thorough im- 
pregnation with this which preserves the hide from de- 
cay or putrefaction. When at length it is thought to 
have imbibed enough of the astringent matter, the hide 
is taken out and hung upon a pole to drain, after which 
it is put upon a piece of wood with a convex surface, called 
a horsey on which it is stretched and kept smooth and 
even. Finally, it is taken to the drying -house ^ a covered 
building with apertures for the free admission of air ; and 
it is there hung up till it becomes completely dry ; and 
thus the process of tanning is finished. 

From the tanner the hide or skin is consigned to the 
currier^ whose art is farther necessary in order to make 
it perfect leather. He first soaks it thoroughly in water, 
and then places it upon a heam^ made of hard wood, with 
One side sloping and polished. He lays it with the grain- 
side, or that on which the hair gr^w, inwards, and the 
flesh-side outwards. He then, with a broad two-edged 
knife, having a handle at each end, shaves or pares the 
hide on the latter side, till all its inequalities are removed, 
and it is reduced to the degree of thinness required for 
use. After this operation it is again put into water, 
then scoured and rubbed with a polished stone. It is 
next besmeared with a kind of oil procured from sheep 
or deer skin, or made by boiling train-oil and tallow to- 
gether, with a view to soften or supple it. A great part 
of its moisture is then evaporated by hanging it up in a 
drying-house for some days ; and it is farther dried by 
exposure to the sun, or to^the heat of a stove. It is then 
differently treated, according as it is meant to be blacked 
or stained, or not. Without entering into minute par- 
ticulars, it is enough to observe, that the astringent prin- 



84 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. II. 

ciple with which the leather has been impregnated in the 
tanning, renders nothing necessary except the application 
of a solution of vitriol of iron, at once to strike a good 
black. This is laid on with a brush, generally on the 
grain side of the leather ; and it afterwards undergoes 
the operation of giving it that roughness which is called 
the grain. This is performed by rubbing it in all direc- 
tions with a fluted board. When leather is blackened on 
the flesh- side, the colour is given by a mixture of lamp- 
black and oil. 

It is in the manner above described that leather is pre- 
pared for the making of shoes and boots, which is one of 
the principal uses of this material ; and certainly no 
other substance could so well unite strength and supple- 
ness with the property of keeping out water. The 
hides principally used in the shoe-manufacture are those 
of neat- cattle, or the ox-kind. For the more delicate 
work, the skins of the goat, dog, seal, and some other 
animals, are employed. 

There is another mode of preparing leather, quite dif- 
ferent from the preceding, which is called tawing. It is 
chiefly practised upon kid-skins, for the manufacture of 
fine gloves. The skin is first washed, and then soaked 
in lime-water, in order to get rid of the hair and grease. 
It is then softened in warm water and bran, and stretched 
out to dry, which renders it transparent. The preserva- 
tive liquor is next applied, which is here not a vegetable 
astringent, but a solution of alum and common salt. 
With this it is impregnated so as to admit of keeping in 
that state several months. The next operation is to 
wash out the superfluous salts with warm water, which 
must be done with great nicety. Afterwards it is mod- 
erately dried, and then thrown into a tub in which yolks 
of eggs have been well mixed by beating. The skins are 
trodden in this, till all the egg is incorporated in their 
substance, which is thereby rendered more solid, and at 
the same time soft and pliable. Blood is sometimes, for 
cheapness, used instead of eggs ; but it communicates a 
colour which cannot be entirely discharged. The skins 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 85 

are then dried again, when they become fit either for 
taking a dye, or for being glossed, if preserved white. 
The method for preparing goat-skins for the celebrated 
Morocco leather resembles this ; but the thickening mat- 
ter in which the skins are trod is a bath of white figs 
with water. Dr Aikin. 



SECTION m. 



VERSES WRITTEN IN THE CHURCHYARD OF RICHMOND. 

Methinks it is good to be here : 
If thou wilt, let us build — but for whom ? 

Nor Ehas nor Moses appear, 
But the shadows of eve that encompass the gloom, 
The abode of the dead and the place of the tomb. 

Shall we build to Ambition ? Ah ! no : 
Affrighted he shrinketh away ; 

For see ! they would pin him below 
To a small narrow cave, and begirt with cold clay. 
To the meanest of reptiles a peer and a prey. 

To Beauty ? Ah ! no : she forgets 
The charms that she wielded before ; 

Nor knows the foul worm that he frets 
The skin which, but yesterday, fools could adore 
For the smoothness it held, or the tint which it wore. 

Shall we build to the purple of Pride, 
The trappings which dizen the proud ? 

Alas ! they are all laid aside, 
And here's neither dress nor adornment allow' d. 
But the long winding-sheet and the fringe of the shroud. 

To Riches ? Alas ! 'tis in vain : 
Who hid, in their turns have been hid ; 
The treasures are squander'd again ; 



86 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. IH. 

And here in the grave are all metals forbid, 
But the tinsel that shone on the dark coffin-lid. 

To the pleasures which Mirth can afford, 
The revel, the laugh, and the jeer ? 

Ah ! here is a plentiful board, 
But the guests are all mute as their pitiful cheer, 
And none but the worm is a reveller here. 

Shall we build to Affection and Love ? 
Ah ! no ; they have wither'd and died. 

Or jfled with the spirit above, — 
Friends, brothers, and sisters, are laid side by side, 
Yet none have saluted, and none have replied. 

Unto Sorrow ? The dead cannot grieve, — 
Not a sob, not a sigh meets mine ear 

Which compassion itself could relieve; 
Ah ! sweetly they slumber, nor hope, love, or fear ; 
Peace, peace, is the watchword, the only one here. 

Unto Death, to whom monarchs must bow ? 
Ah ! no ; for his empire is known, 

And here there are trophies enow ; 
Beneath the cold dead, and around the dark stone. 
Are the signs of a sceptre that none may diso-vvn. 

The first tabernacle to Hope we will build. 
And look for the sleepers around us to rise ; 

The second to Faith, which ensures it fulfill'd ; 
And the third to the Lamb of the great sacrifice. 
Who bequeathed us them both when he rose to the skies. 

Herbert Knowles. 



CHEMICAL ATTRACTION. 

Mrs B. Emily, Caroline, 

E, Is there not another attraction in bodies besides 
cohesion and gravity, Mrs B. ? 

Mrs B, There is ; the various bodies in nature, you 
must observe, are composed of certain elementary prin- 
ciples. 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 87 

(7. Yes ; I know tliat all bodies are composed of fire, 
ail', earth, and water ; that I learnt many years ago. 

Mrs B. But you must now endeavour to forget it. It 
is now proved, that neither fire, air, earth, nor water, can 
be called elementary bodies ; for an elementary body is 
one that has never been decomposed, that is to say, sep- 
arated into other substances; and fire, air, earth, and 
water, are all of them susceptible of decomposition. 

E, I thought that decomposing a body was dividing it 
into its minutest parts ; and, if so, I do not understand 
why an elementary substance is not capable of being de- 
composed as well as any other. 

Mrs B, You have misconceived the idea of decomposi- 
tion ; it is very different from mere division. The latter 
simply reduces a body into parts, but the former sepa- 
rates it into the several ingredients or materials of which 
it is composed. If we were to take a loaf of bread, and 
separate the several ingredients of which it is made, — the 
flour, the yeast, the salt, and the water, — it would be very 
different from cutting or crumbling the loaf into pieces. 

E, I understand you now very well. 

(7. But flour, water, and other materials of bread, ac- 
cording to your definition, are not elementary substances. 

Mrs B, No, my dear ; I mentioned bread rather as a 
familiar comparison to illustrate the idea, than as an ex- 
ample. The elementary substances of which a body is 
composed are called the constituent parts of that body ; 
in decomposing it, therefore,, we separate its constituent 
parts. If, on the contrary, we divide a body by chopping 
it to pieces, or even by grinduig or pounding it to the 
finest powder, each of these small particles will still con- 
sist of a portion of the several constituent parts of the 
whole body : these are called the integrant parts : do you 
understand the difference ? 

E, Yes, I think, perfectly. "We decompose a body 
into its constituent parts, and divide it into its integrant 
parts. 

Mrs B. Exactly so. If, therefore, a body consists of 
only one kind of substance, though it may be divided 



88 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. HI. 

into its integrant parts, it is not possible to decompose it. 
Such bodies are therefore called simple or elementary^ as 
they are the elements of which all other bodies are com- 
posed- Compound bodies are such as consist of more 
than one of these elementary principles. Now, chemical 
attraction consists in the peculiar tendency which bodies 
of a different nature have to unite with each other. It 
is by this force that all compositions and decompositions 
are eflfected. 

E. What is the difference between chemical attraction 
and the attraction of cohesion. 

Mrs B, The attraction of cohesion exists only between 
particles of the same nature, whether simple or com- 
pound ; thus it unites the particles of a piece of metal, 
which is a simple substance, and likewise the particles 
of a loaf of bread, w^hich is a compound. The attraction 
of composition, on the contrary, unites, and maintains in 
a state of combination, particles of a dissimilar nature : 
it is this power that forms each of the compound par- 
ticles of which bread consists ; and it is by the attraction 
of cohesion that all these particles are connected into a 
single mass. And observe also, that the attraction of 
cohesion unites particles of a similar nature, without 
changing their original properties; the result of such a 
union, therefore, is a body of the same kind as the par- 
ticles of which it is formed ; whilst the attraction of 
composition, by combining particles of a dissimilar nature, 
produces compound bodies quite different from any of 
their constituents. If, for instance, I pour on the piece 
of copper contained in this glass some of this liquid 
(nitric acid), for which it has a strong attraction, every 
particle of the copper will combine with a particle of acid, 
and together they will form a new body, totally different 
from either the copper or the acid. Do you observe the 
internal commotion that already begins to take place ? It 
is produced by the combination of these two substances ; 
and yet the acid has in this case to overcome, not only 
the resistance which the strong cohesion of the particles 
of copper opposes to their combination with it, but also 



SECT. Iir. A COURSE OF READING. 89 

the weight of the copper, which makes it sink to the 
bottom of the glass, and prevents the acid from having 
such free access to it as it would if the metal were sus- 
pended in the liquid. 

E, The acid seems, however, to overcome both these 
obstacles without difficulty, and appears to be very rapidly 
dissolving the copper. 

Mrs B, And you may already see how totally dif- 
ferent this compound is from either of its ingredients. 
It is neither colourless, like the acid, nor hard, heavy, 
and yellow, like the copper. If you tasted it you would 
no longer perceive the sourness of the acid. It has at 
present the appearance of a blue liquid; but when the 
union is completed, and the water with which the acid is 
diluted evaporated, the compound will assume the form 
of regular crystals of a fine blue colour, and perfectly 
transparent. Of these I can show you a specimen, as I - 
have prepared some for that purpose. 

(7. How very beautiful they are in colour, form, and 
transparency! Nothing can be more striking than this 
example of chemical attraction. 

3Irs B, The temi attractiGn has been lately introduced 
as a substitute for the word affinity ; but I confess that 
I think the word attraction best suited to the general law 
that unites the integrant particles of bodies ; and affinity 
better adapted to that which combines the constituent 
particles, as it may convey an idea of the preference which 
some bodies have for others, which the term attraction 
does not so weU express. 

E, I do not conceive how bodies can be decomposed 
by chemical attraction. That this power should be the 
means of composing them is very obvious; but that it 
should, at the same time, produce exactly the contrary 
effect, appears to me rather paradoxical. 

Mrs B. Let us call two ingredients, of which the 
body is composed, A and B. If we present to it another 
ingredient, C, which has a greater affinity for B than that 
which unites A and B, it necessarily follows that B will 
quit A to combine with C. The new ingredient, there- 

e2 



y:j?y:i^^^s^ 



90 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. III. 

fore, has effected a decomposition of the original body, 
A B ; A has been left alone, and a new compound, B C, 
has been formed. 

E, We might, I think, use the comparison of two 
friends, who were very happy in each other's society till 
a third disunited them by the preference which one of 
them gave to the new comer. 

Mrs B, Very well. Let us suppose that we wish to 
decompose the compound we have just formed by the 
combination of the two ingredients, copper and nitric 
acid. We may do this by presenting to it a piece of 
iron, for which the acid has a stronger attraction than for 
copper ; the acid will consequently quit the copper to 
combine with the iron, and the copper will be precipi- 
tated, that is to say, it will be thrown down in its sepa- 
rate state, and reappear in its simple form. In order to 
produce this effect, I shall dip the blade of this knife into 
the fluid; and, when I take it out, you will observe, 
that, instead of being wetted with a bluish liquid, like 
that contained in the glass, it wiU be covered with a thin 
coat of copper. 

C. So it is really ! But then is it not the copper, in- 
stead of the acid, that has combined with the iron blade ? 

Mrs B. No ; you are deceived by appearances : it is 
the acid which combines with the iron, and, in so doing, 
deposits or precipitates the copper on the surface of the 
blade. 

C And pray, Mrs B., what is the cause of the chemi- 
cal attraction of bodies for each other ? It appears to me 
more extraordinary, or unnatural, if I may use the ex- 
pression, than the attraction of cohesion, which unites 
particles of a similar nature. 

Mrs B, It has not yet been satisfactorily explained. 
Perhaps, like that of cohesion or gravitation, it may mere- 
ly be one of the powers inherent in matter, which, in the 
present state of our knowledge, admits of no other expla- 
nation than an immediate reference to a Divine cause. 

Mrs Marcet. 



SECT. lU. A COURSE OP READING. 91 

ANCIENT SONG OF VICTORY. 

lo ! they come, they come ! 

Garlands for every shrme ; 
Strike lyres to greet them home ; 

Bring roses, pour ye wine. 

Swell, swell the Dorian flute, 

Through the blue triumphal sky ! 
Let the cithern's tone salute 

The sons of victory ! 

With the offering of bright blood. 

They have ransom' d hearth and tomb, 

Vineyard, and field, and flood ; — 
lo ! they come, they come ! 

Sing it where olives wave, 

And by the glittering sea, 
And o'er each hero's grave, — 

Sing, sing the land is free ! 

Mark ye the flashing oars 
And the spears that light the deep, 

How the festal sunshine pours 
Where the lords of battle sweep ! 

Each hath brought back his shield ; — 

Maid, greet thy lover home ! 
Mother, from that proud field, 

lo ! thy son is come ! 

Who murmur' d of the dead ? 

Hush, boding voice ! we know 
That many a shining head 

Lies in its glory low. 

Breathe not those names to-day ! 

They shall have their praise erelong. 
And a power all hearts to sway, 

Li ever-bmning song. 

But now shed flowers, pour wine, 

To hail the conquerors home ! 
Bring wreaths for every shrine — 

lo ! they come, they come ! 

Mrs Hemaj^s. 



92 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. III. 



THE FIGURES OF SPEECH.* 

The term figure signifies the shape or form of any piece 
of matter, and it has various secondary meanings, all re- 
ducible to this original idea. Men of figure are persons 
whom rank in life, or political influence, distinguishes 
from the bulk of mankind ; and it may be said of men of 
eminent learning, or of the authors of useful discoveries 
and inventions in arts and sciences, that they will make 
a figure in the history of their country. Precisely on the 
same principles has this term been appropriated in its 
application to language. Certain forms of speech have 
been called figures, as distinguished from the usual way 
of expressing the same thought, and as eminently efiective 
of eloquence. 

Figurative language is opposed to ordinary^ plain, or 
literal speech ; and a figure of language may be defined 
to be a distinguished mode of speech which results from 
a peculiar state of mind suited to itself, and expresses a 
thought, mostly with some additional idea, and always 
more to the purpose of a writer or speaker than ordinary 
language. Thus, when we say of vicious indulgence, 
*' that the enjoyment of it is often short, the recollection 
of it bitter and long continued,'' we express a common 
idea in common language. When we use the lines — 

*' Pleasure, known but by its wings, 
And remember' d by its stings," 

we convey the same idea in the language of figure. It 
is essential to figurative language that it results naturally 
from a peculiar state of mind. Figures are the language 
of nature, not an invention of art ; and however bold, or 
even apparently absurd, they originate in the principles 
of our constitution. In the use of them, the vulgar are 
often more correct than the learned; the former speak- 
ing as nature prompts, the latter attempting to forge 

* The sulbstance of this lesson is taken from an ingenious Essay 
on the Figures of Speech, by the Rev. Aiex. Carson of Dublin. 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF BEADING. 93 

them bv study, from an affectation of ornament. Some 
have ventured to call figurative language the language of 
barbarians, in opposition to that of cultivated life ; but 
such writers have yet to study the subject. It is indeed 
the language of barbarians, but it is also the language of 
civilisation. It is the language of the child, but it is also 
the language of the philosopher. It is the language of 
human nature ; and the moment a man will make con- 
science of speaking the language of figure he will cease to 
speak the language of men. 



1. The figures which are founded on resemblance, are 
the metaphor, the comparison or simile, and the allegory. 

The metaphor^ the most common of all the figures, 
substitutes one thing for another, and applies to the pri- 
mary object language which is, strictly speaking, descrip- 
tive only of the secondary. Thus, in AYolsey's description 
of the state of man, '" To-day he puts forth the tender 
leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms,'' a tree is put for 
man, and the changes, which can in strictness be pre- 
dicated only of the secondary, tree, are attributed to the 
primar}^, man. — Comparison^ or simile^ is founded on re- 
semblance as well as metaphor, but it has nothing else 
in common with it: and though it has been sometimes 
called a lengthened metaphor, it is altogether a distinct 
figure. Metaphor always asserts what is manifestly false ; 
comparison asserts nothing but what is true. In meta- 
phor the resembling qualities in the two objects must be 
distinguishing qualities of these objects. In comparison, 
any striking resemblance may be made the subject of the 
figure. The former asserts that one object has the prop- 
erties of another; the latter, that one object resembles 
another. The two figures are indeed near akin, but they 
have a distinct personality : they are sisters, the daughters 
of Likeness by different fathers. The one is the child 
of Fancy, the other of Truth. — Allegory is generally con- 
sidered, but incorrectly, as a continuation of metaphor. 
No continuation of metaphor ever becomes an allegory ; 
indeed there are several essential propeilies that distin- 



94 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. III. 

guish these figures. Allegory presents to immediate 
view the secondary object only ; metaphor always presents 
the primary also. Metaphor always imagines one thing 
to be another ; allegory never. Everything asserted in 
the allegory is applied to the secondary object; every- 
thing asserted in the metaphor is applied to the principal. 
In the metaphor there is but one meaning ; in the alle- 
gory there are two, a literal and a figurative. Allegory 
is a veil ; metaphor a perspective-glass. The following 
example, from the 80th Psalm, is one of the finest alle- 
gories : — 

" Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt ; thou hast cast out the 
heathen, and planted it. Thou preparedst room before it, and didst 
cause it to take deep root, and it filled the land. The hills were 
covered with the shadow of it, and the boughs thereof were like the 
goodly cedars. She sent out her boughs unto the sea, and her branches 
unto the river. Why hast thou then broken down her hedges, so 
that all they which pass by the way do pluck her? The boar 
out of the wood doth waste it, and the wild beast of the field doth 
devour it. Return, we beseech thee, God of hosts : look down from 
heaven, and behold, and visit this vine." 

Allegory is a figure much seldomer employed than 
either metaphor or simile. The two last are frequently 
used by us, not only without any previous study, but even 
without any sensible exertion of the imagination ; but 
to form an allegory the mind must look out for a likeness 
that will correspond in a variety of circumstances, and 
form an independent whole. The best occasion for the 
proper allegory is, when it is of importance to gain a 
man's own judgment against himself, without exciting his 
suspicions of our intention. We all know the efiect of 
the parable spoken to David by Nathan ; and we cannot 
fail to observe that no other form of speech could have 
here supplied the place of allegory. Many of the parables 
of Christ are of the same description; and the Scribes 
and Pharisees were often obliged to give judgment against 
themselves. 



2. Irony ^ Hyperbole^ and Interrogation^ may be consid- 
ered as belonging to one class, as in all of them there is 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING, 95 

an apparent inconsistency between the literal and the 
figurative meaning. — Irony employs words in a sense 
contrary to their literal meaning. Contempt employs it 
as one of its peculiar weapons ; it is used also in upbraid- 
ing when there is no design to reprove. You are an 
honest man ! And there is one very biting species of this 
figure, by which a person confesses himself guilty of that 
of which another is guilty, whom he wishes to expose. 
Sometimes also the strongest manner of denying a thing 
is by confessing it with an indignant ironical air; and 
there is often no better way of getting rid of an unreason- 
able arguer than by ironically agreeing with him. Hy- 
perhole consists in describing a thing as greater or less 
than it is in reality ; but^ however wild, it does not mean 
to deceive us. It is extravagant only in words, and it 
never expects to be understood to the full amount of its 
statement. The following lines have been quoted as an 
example of hyperbole ; but they furnish a specimen of 
impious raving rather than of figurative language : — 

*' I found her on the floor, 

In all the storm of grief, yet beautiful : 

Pouring forth tears at such a lavish rate, 

That were the world on fire, they might have drown'd 

The wrath of Heaven, and quench'd the mighty ruin ! " 

We have a fine instance of this figure in the assertion 
of the Evangelist, when he tells us, that if all the works 
of Jesus had been recorded, the whole world would not 
have held the books ; and also in the promise of God to 
Abram (Gen. xiii. 16), "I will make thy seed as the 
dust of the earth.^' — Interrogation implies literally igno- 
rance or doubt; figuratively^ the strongest confidence of 
conviction. In addition to the vehemence, earnestness, 
and fire, communicated to the style by this mode of 
speech, it derives a force of conviction from the real can- 
dour and intrepidity of truth which it evinces. It shows 
the perfect conviction of the speaker himself, and a fear- 
lessness of examination. It is the clearest form in which 
an argument can be presented to the mind, and therefore 



96 A COURSE OF BEADING. SECT. III. 

the best calculated to produce conviction. It brings an 
audience to a point, and obliges them to decide. 



3. Antithesis and Climax are figures of arrangement. 
Antithesis arranges the members of a section, so as, by 
contrast, to make objects more striking. The famous ex- 
ample from Cicero shows how it is calculated to strengthen 
the impression which an orator intends that an object 
should make : — " Is it credible that, when he declined 
putting Clodius to death with the consent of all, he should 
choose to do it with the disapprobation of many? Can 
you believe that the person whom he scrupled to slay, — 
when he might have done so with full justice, in a conve- 
nient place, at the proper time, with secure impunity, — ^lie 
made no scruple to murder against justice, in an unfa- 
vourable place, at an unseasonable time, and at the risk of 
capital condemnation?" — Climax arranges its matter so 
that every succeeding object or circumstance rises above 
that which preceded. It has a grand effect where it has 
scope and is well managed ; but it is proper only for 
things of importance. The noted example from Cicero 
against Verres is a fine one : — "" It is highly criminal to 
bind a Roman citizen ; to scourge him is enormous guilt ; 
to kill him is almost parricide ; but by what name shall 
I designate the crucifying of him?" A finer example 
never was uttered than that in the First Book of Sam- 
uel : — 

" Now Eli was ninety and eight years old ; and his eyes were dim 
that he could not see. And the man said unto Eli, I am he that 
came out of the army, and I fled to-day out of the army. And he 
said, What is there done, my son? And the messenger answered and 
said, Israel is fled before the Philistines, and there hath been also a 
great slaughter amotig the people, and thy two sons also, Hophni 
and Phinehas, are dead, and the ark of God is taken. And it came 
to pass, when he made mention of the ark of God, that he fell from 
off" the seat backward by the side of the gate, and his neck brake, 
and he died ; for he was an old man, and heavy : and he had judged 
Israel forty years." 

The figure is correct, and the matter is In the highest 
degree afi'ecting. Israel is fled hefore the Philistines, 



SECT. Ill, A COURSE OF READING. 97 

Heavy news to a patriot in any country, but insupport- 
ably afflicting to an Israelite. How afflicting, then, to 
him who was at the head of the government, and whose 
neglect of parental duty was the cause of the defeat! 
And there hath teen also a great slaughter among the 
people ! It was no trifling loss, no momentary disgrace. 
It was not only defeat, but ruin. And thy two sons also, 
Hophni and Fhinehas, are dead! The calamity stiU 
grows. He was an affectionate but a too indulgent fa- 
ther : his sons were profligate in the extreme. Their 
death, in such a situation, was a terrible blow to this man 
of God. But the worst is still to come. The glory of 
their nation, the token of the Divine presence among 
them, the ark of God, was in the hands of the uncircum- 
cised : And the ark of God is taken ! 



4. & 5. Ellipsis is prompted by great emotion, and ex- 
presses the thought in a hurried and incoherent manner. 
It passes with rapidity from one thing to another, with- 
out pointing out the connexion between them. The 
phraseology which it employs often appears incoherent 
and wild. Whatever strikes at the moment is uttered 
without order, and if before one thing is finished another 
occurs, the latter is immediately expressed. This figure 
is deficient in something essential to the grammatical con- 
struction. But many writers improperly ascribe to it 
every instance of grammatical abbreviation. Grammati- 
cal ellipsis is altogether different from the figm'ative. In 
conversation and familiar writing the former is to be 
found in almost eveiy sentence, and is no indication of 
emotion. Its end is mere brevity. We have a fine ex- 
ample of this figure in the words of Isaac, on discovering 
that he was deceived in conferring the blessing, — *' Who ; 
where is he that hath taken venison, and brought it me ?'' 
&c. — Pleonasm is the opposite of ellipsis ; the latter hur- 
ries over its objects, the former detains them as long as 
possible ; and though at first sight it may appear strange 
that such opposite modes of speech should both be orna- 
mental to style, they are alike founded in nature, and 



98 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. Ill, 

alike available to the pui^oses of the poet and the orator. 
They cannot indeed both be beautiful in the same situa- 
tion ; but each has its proper place, which could not be 
supplied by the other. Pleonasm employs a redundancy 
of expression, not, however, without intention and eflfect. 
/ saw it with my eyes. ^' Could you see it with your 
mouth ?'^ replies the cynic. But nature and the most 
correct taste interpret such phraseology, and give import- 
ant meaning to the apparent redundancy. Sometimes, 
after a general statement, various particulars are enumer- 
ated, to express the deep impression made on the mind 
of the speaker. Milton speaks thus with respect to his 
blindness : — 

*' Nor to these idle orbs does day appear, 

Or sun, or moon, or stars, througliout the year, 

Or man, or woman." 

After stating that he did not perceive the light of day, 
we needed not to be informed that he could not discern 
these other objects. But the person who should call this 
tautology would be as devoid of soul as an orang-outang. 
We can participate in the feelings of the poet, and brood 
with him over the objects of his regret. It soothes his 
melancholy to dwell on his bereavement, and it gives us 
a sad pleasure to accompany him. He cannot be dragged 
away from the pleasing objects which it is his misfortune 
for ever to be deprived of seeing. It is from a like prin- 
ciple that earnestness expresses its object again and again 
in nearly the same words : '^ Lord, hear my voice ; let 
thine ear be attentive to the voice of my supplications." 
" Hear my prayer, Lord, and let my cry come unto 
thee. Hide not thy face from me in the day of my 
trouble : incline thine ear unto me ; in the day when I 
call, answer me speedily.'^ There is nothing more affect- 
ing in language than David's lamentation for the death 
of his wicked son Absalom, which is just a combination 
of this figure and apostrophe. It is the very soul of sor- 
row : — " And the king was much moved, and went up 
to the chamber over the gate, and wept ; and, as he went. 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 99 

thus lie said, my son Absalom ! my son, my son Ab- 
salom ! would God I had died for thee, Absalom, my 
son, my son!'' 

6. Personification gives life and intelligence to inani- 
mate objects ; but it does not imply, as is sometimes as- 
serted, any conviction, even the most momentary, of actual 
life and intelligence in the thing personified. We make 
the supposition, and enjoy all the advantages of the reali- 
ty, though we are quite aware that we are figuring a 
thing to be what we know it is not. The chief intention 
of this figure appears to be a desire of giving vivacity to 
style, and, in the higher kinds of it, of giving vent to 
overpowering feeling. Some personifications are alto- 
gether the work of fancy, in which an attribute or quality 
is introduced as a person. Of this kind are those papers 
of Addison, Johnson, and many others, which have improp- 
erly been called allegories. 



7. Apostrophe addresses the absent or the dead, or, 
from the influence of passion, turns from the regular ob- 
ject of address to the person spoken of. Many fine ex- 
amples of this figure are to be found in the Scriptures. 
David's lamentation about his son Absalom is one of the 
most afiecting examples of an address to the dead. The 
Poems of Ossian are full of the most beautiful apos- 
trophes. Cuthullin's address to his far- distant wife is 
the voice of nature : — 

" Strike the harp in praise of Bragela, whom I left in the isle of 
mist, the spouse of my love. Dost thou raise thy fair face from the 
rock to find the sails of Cuthullin ? The sea is roUing far distant, 
and its white foam shall deceive thee for my sails. Ketire, for it is 
night, my love, and the dark winds sigh in thy hair. Eetire to the 
hall of my posts, and think of the times that are past ; for I will 
not return till the storm of war is gone." 



8. Exclamation assumes the form of an address, but it 
expects no reply. It asks not to be informed, but to 
express the strong conception which it has of its object. 



100 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. III. 

Interrogation and exclamation are often unskilfully con- 
founded. The difference is this : — Interrogation, when 
a figure, always strongly asserts, and is used in argument ; 
exclamation expresses agitated feeling, admiration, won- 
der, surprise, anger, joy, grief, &c., with respect to some- 
thing that is not controverted : — " the depth of the 
riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God ! How 
unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding 
out ! " Personification, apostrophe, exclamation, and met- 
aphor, may all be combined: — "How art thou fallen 
from heaven, Lucifer, son of the morning ! '^ 



9. Vision represents a past or future action or event as 
happening before our eyes. Instead of narrative, vision 
gives the very words of another. A writer, commencing 
the account of an action or event in his own words, 
abruptly begins to repeat the words of the speaker of 
whom he is writing : — 

" Thus, at their shady lodge arrived, both stood, 
Both tum'd, and under open sky adored 
The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heaven, 
(Which they beheld), the moon's resplendent globe, 
And starry pole : — ' Thou also madest the night, 
Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day.' " 

Vision effects its purposes also by placing the speaker 
on the spot where the action or event happens, and by 
causing him to assume the direction of what takes place. 
He gives orders with uncontrolled authority, with respect 
to things over which he has not the smallest influence, 
and in which he is no more concerned than another. 
He addresses the spectators on every important occasion, 
and they can see nothing but as he directs their atten- 
tion. The following picture of the passage of the Eng- 
lish through the deep vale of the Till, and of the fatal 
inactivity of the Scottish army, is a fine instance of this 
figure : — 

" High sight it is, and haughty, while 
They dive into the deep defile ; 
Beneath the cavern 'd cliff they fall, 
Beneath the castle's airy wall. 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 101 

By rock, by oak, by hawtbom tree, 
Troop after troop are disappearing; 
Troop after troop tbeir banners rearing, 

Upon tbe eastern bank you see. 
Still pouring down tbe rocky den, 

Where flows the sullen Till, 
And rising from the dim-wood glen, 
Standards on standards, men on men, 

In slow succession still, 
And, sweeping o'er the Gothic arch. 
And pressing on, in ceaseless march. 

To gain the opposing hill. 

*' And why stands Scotland idly now. 
Dark Flodden ! on thy airy brow. 
Since England gains the pass the while. 
And struggles through the deep defile ? 
WTiat checks the fiery soul of James ? 
Why sits that champion of the dames 

Inactive on his steed. 
And sees, between him and his land, 
Between him and Tweed's southern strand. 

His host Lord Surrey lead ? 
What 'vails the vain knight- errant' s brand? — 
O, Douglas, for thy leading-wand ! 

Fierce Randolph, for thy speed ! 
for one hour of Wallace wight, 
Or well-skill' d Bruce, to rule the fight, 
And cry, — ' St Andrew and our right ! ' 
Another sight had seen that mom. 
From Fate's dark book a leaf been torn. 
And Flodden had been Bannockbum !" 



SIMPLE BODIES— OXYGEN, HYDROGEN, NITROGEN, CARBON, 
SULPHUR, PHOSPHORUS, THE METALS. 

The number of hitherto undecompounded bodies is about 
sixty. Four others — light, heat, electricity, and mag- 
netism, called the imponderable bodies — have, by some, 
been added to these ; but as their separate identity has 
not been clearly ascertained^ they are not generally reck- 
oned with the others. The whole of these sixty bodies 
may be weighed and measured^ and hence (in contradis- 
tinction to the four bodies just mentioned, which cannot 



102 A COURSE OF READING, SECT. III. 

be weighed and measured), are call ponderable bodies. 
These, in order to facilitate the acquu'ement of a knowl- 
edge of their properties, have been arranged as follows : 

1. Bodies having an immense affinity for the simple 
bodies of the succeeding two classes ; with which bodies 
they combine, and thereby form substances that are 
totally different m their properties from the substances of 
which they are composed : — 



1. Oxygen 

2. Chlorine 



3. Iodine 

4. Bromine 



5. Fluorine. 



2. Bodies of a non-metallic nature, but inflammable or 
acidifiable : — 

6. Hydrogen ") ^ ^ ^- 

7. NiTROGEK ]G<^seous Bodies. 

a jy ^ f Fixed and Infusible Solids. 



}' 



ll! Phosphorus ^^^^^'^^^^^^ Volatile Solids. 



3. Inflammable or acidifiable substances of a metallic 
nature. This is the most numerous class of simple bodies ; 
the individuals of which it is composed being in number 
forty-nine. These substances combine with nearly all 
the eleven bodies named above ; but the most important 
compounds into which they enter are the bodies formed 
by their combination with oxygen. 

Oxygen is one of the most important agents in nature. 
Scarcely a process of any description takes place in 
which it has not a share. In a simple state, it is obtained 
only in the form of gas. It is an exceedingly abundant 
body; the air of the atmosphere contains one-fifth, and 
water one-third of its bulk of it. It also exists in most 
natural products, animal, vegetable, and mineral. Oxy- 
gen gas is, like common air, colourless, invisible, taste- 
less, inodorous, and elastic. But it is heavier than 
common air, in the proportion of 111 to 100. It is 
a powerful supporter of combustion ; that is to say, 
when any inflamed body, as a lighted taper, is put into 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 103 

it, it bums very vigorously — ^much more so than if it 
were put into common air ; indeed, it is owing to the 
oxygen it contains that common air supports combustion 
at all. Its presence is also essential for the continuance 
of animal life. We cannot breathe air which has been 
deprived of its oxygen ; and it must be noticed, that an 
animal lives, and a combustible body burns, much longer 
in a definite quantity of oxygen gas, than it would in the 
same quantity of atmospherical air. Hence it is evident, 
that oxygen is the principle which supports both life and 
fire. Oxygen is not only found combined in natural 
bodies, but it can be made, by means of art, to combine 
with a great variety of substances, with which it forms 
very peculiar compounds. 

Properly speaking, oxygen gas is not a simple tody ; 
since the gaseous state is not the natural state of oxygen, 
but is owing to the presence of a peculiar chemical agent 
which has already been described, called caloric. But as 
we know of no substances that are separated from caloric, 
it is customary to apply the term simple to such as are 
combined wich caloric only. Gas is the name given to all 
permanently elastic fluids, both simple and compound, ex- 
cept the atmosphere, to which the term air is appropriated. 
It is necessary to distinguish between gas and vapour. 
The latter is elastic and fluid, but not permanently so. 
The vapour of water (steam) upon cooling becomes a 
liquid : it is, therefore, not a gas^ for gases are bodies 
whose aeriform state is permanent at natural temperatures. 

Hydrogen is only known in the state of gas^ and is 
sometimes called inflammable air. It is the lightest 
species of ponderable matter with which we are acquaint- 
ed : compared to oxygen, its density is as 1 to 16. It is 
the basis of water ^ from which body it is chiefly pro- 
cured. Hydrogen gas, when pure, is possessed of all the 
physical properties of comi;non air ; a slight odour, which 
it sometimes has, is produced by some substance that is 
held in solution by it. It does not support combustion, 
though it is itself one of the most combustible of all bodies ; 



104 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. III. 

being that which gives the power of burning with flame 
to all the substances used for the economical production 
of heat and light. But it only burns in the presence of 
oxygen. — It is not fit for respiration ; for animals which 
breathe it die almost instantaneously. If pure oxygen 
and hydrogen gas be mixed together, they remain unal- 
tered ; but if a lighted taper be brought into contact with 
the mixture, it explodes with astonishing violence ; and, 
if the two gaseous bodies have been mixed in certain pro- 
portions, the whole is condensed into water; hence we 
see the origin of the term hydrogen^ which literally sig- 
nifies the water-former. Hydrogen gas is the substance 
which, on account of its rarity, is employed to inflate air- 
balloons. 

Nitrogen^ called also azoie^ is a gaseous body, rather 
lighter than common air ; of which it forms 4- 5th parts 
in bulk, the remaining l-5th being oxygen. It is taste- 
less, inodorous, colourless, and capable of being condensed 
and dilated. It extinguishes flame, and is fatal to animal 
life. It combines with oxygen in various proportions, 
forming compounds which differ greatly in their proper- 
ties. 

One of its most extraordinary compounds is nitrous 
oxide. This gas consists of 2 volumes of nitrogen and 1 
volume of oxygen ; and, when inhaled into the lungs, pro- 
duces an extraordinary elevation of the animal spirits, a 
propensity to leaping and running, involuntary fits of 
laughter, &c. This circumstance shows what a variety 
of delightful or pernicious effects might flow from the 
slightest change in the constitution of the atmosphere, 
were the hand of the Almighty to interpose in altering 
the proportion of its constituent parts; for atmospheric 
air is composed of 4 volumes of nitrogen and 1 of oxygen, 
which is not a very different proportion from the above. 
Another gas, called nitric oxide, composed of 2 volumes of 
oxygen and 2 of nitrogen, produces instant suffocation in 
aU animals that attempt to breathe it. One of the most 
corrosive acids, aquafortis, is composed of 5 of oxygen and 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 105 

2 of nitrogen; so that we are every moment breathing 
certain substances, which, in another combination, would 
produce the most dreadful pain, and cause our immediate 
destruction. 

Carbon is the name given to the pure inflammable part 
of charcoal, of which substance the diamond is only a 
variety in a pure crystallized state ; for pure charcoal and 
diamond, when treated in the same manner, produce pre- 
cisely the same results. Carbon is insoluble in water, 
and infusible by the most intense heat. Carbon combines 
with oxygen, and produces a gas called carbonic acid; 
and when combined with hydrogen gas, forms different 
kinds of carburetted hydrogen, which exist in the gas that 
is now used to light up shops. Animal and vegetable oils 
are composed almost entirely of carbon and hydrogen ; 
the difference in their properties resulting chiefly from the 
variation in the proportions of these two bodies. The 
same may be observed of gum, sugar, and starch. All 
these bodies, however, contain oxygen. 

Sulphur is a well-known substance, distinguished com- 
monly by the name of brimstone. It is a hard, brittle 
body, of a yellow colour, destitute of smell, and of a weak 
taste. It is universally diffused in nature ; but common- 
ly combined with other bodies. It is insoluble in water ; 
but, if poured into that liquid when liquefied by heat, it 
retains its softness, and in this state is employed for tak- 
ing impressions from seals and medals. When exposed 
to heat in close vessels, it is sublimed or volatilized in 
the form of very fine powder, C8Red flowers of sulphur. At 
a heat of about twice that of boiling water, it takes fire, 
if in contact with the air, and burns with a flame of a 
pale-blue colour. In this process it dissolves in the oxy- 
gen of the atmosphere, and produces an elastic fluid acid. 
It is a substance of great importance in chemistry and 
the arts. Oxygen unites with it in four proportions, its 
compounds forming an interesting series of acids. The 



106 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. III. 

compounds of sulphur with metals are called sulphurets. 
With hydrogen it forms sulphuretted hydrogen gas. 

Phosphorus is a semi-transparent yellowish matter, of 
the consistence of wax. It is procured, in general, by 
the decomposition of bones. It is so inflammable that it 
is set on fire at the temperature of about 150. Indeed, 
it has a luminous appearance, arising from a slow com- 
bustion, at the common temperature of the atmosphere. 
During its combustion, it emits a dense white smoke, 
which has the smell of garlic, and in the dark is lumi- 
nous. On account of its very combustible nature, it 
requires to be handled with great caution. It is a violent 
poison. 

The forty-nine metals compose the most numerous 
class of undeeompounded chemical bodies, and are dis- 
tinguished by the following general characters: — They 
possess a peculiar lustre. — They are opaque. — They are 
fusible by heat, and in fusion retain their lustre and opac- 
ity. — They are excellent conductors of electricity and 
heat. — Many of them may be extended under the ham- 
mer, and are called malleable ; or under the rolling-press, 
and are called laminable ; or drawn into wire, and are 
called ductile.— ^"When exposed, highly heated, to the ac- 
tion of oxygen, chlorine, or iodine, they take fire, and are 
converted by the combustion into oxides, chlorides, or 
iodides, — ^bodies destitute of lustre and other metallic 
characteristics. — They will combine, in almost any pro- 
portion, with each other, when in a state of fusion, and 
thus form compounds, which are termed alloys, bodies 
that r^etain the properties of metals. — From their bril- 
liancy and opacity, conjointly, they reflect the greater 
part of the light which falls on their surface ; hence they 
form excellent mirrors. — They are very heavy; to this 
character, however (though it was till lately considered 
one of their most prominent features), there are import- 
ant exceptions ; since metals have been obtained (potas- 
sium and sodium, for instance) which are lighter than 
water. Chemical Recreations. 



SECT. in. A COURSE OP READING. 107 

THE FIRST SABBATH. 

Raphael to Adam. 
Here finished he, and all that he had made 
View'd, and behold all was entirely good ; 
So even and morn accomplish'd the sixth day : 
Yet not till the Creator from his work 
Desisting, though unwearied, up return'd. 
Up to the heaven of heavens, his high abode : 
Thence to behold this new-created world, 
The addition of his empire, how it show'd 
In prospect from his throne, how good, how fair. 
Answering his great idea. Up he rode, 
Follow'd with acclamation, and the sound 
Symphonious of ten thousand harps that tuned 
Angelic harmonies : the earth, the air, 
Eesounded (thou rememberst, for thou heardst), 
The heavens and all the constellations rung. 
The planets in then* station listening stood, 
l^Hiile the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 
" Open, ye everlasting gates ! " they sung, 
'' Open, ye heavens ! your living doors ; let in 
The great Creator from his work return'd 
Magnificent, his six days' work, a world ; 
Open, and henceforth oft ; for God will deign 
To visit oft the dwellings of just men. 
Delighted ; and with frequeut intercourse 
Thither will send his winged messengers 
On errands of supernal grace." — So sung 
The glorious train ascending ; he through heaven, 
That open'd wide her blazing portals, led 
To God's eternal house direct the way ; 
A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, 
And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear 
Seen in the galaxy, that milky-way 
Which nightly, as a circling zone, thou seest 
Powder'd with stars. And now on earth the seventh 
Evening arose in Eden, for the sun 
Was set, and twilight from the east came on, 
Forerunning night ; when at the holy mount 
Of heaven's high-seated top,4he imperial throne 
Of Godhead fix'd for ever firm and sure. 
The Filial Power arrived, and sat him down 
With his great Father there ; and, from his work 



iOS A COURSE OF READING. SECT. ill. 

Now resting, bless'd and hallow'd the seventh day, 

As resting on that day from all his work. 

But not in silence holy kept : the harp 

Had work and rested not ; the solemn pipe, 

And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, 

All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, 

Temper'd soft tunings, intermix'd with voice 

Choral or unison; of incense clouds, 

Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount. 

Creation and the six days' acts they sung : 

" Great are thy works, Jehovah ! infinite 

Thy power ! what thought can measure thee, or tongue 

Eelate thee ? Greater now in thy return 

Than from the giant angels : thee that day 

Thy thunders magnified ; but to create 

Is greater than created to destroy. 

Who can impair thee, Mighty King, or bound 

Thy empire ? Easily the proud attempt 

Of spirits apostate, and their counsels vain, 

Thou hast repell'd ; while impiously they thought 

Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw 

The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks 

To lessen thee, against his purpose serves 

To manifest the more thy might : his evil 

Thou usest, and from thence creatst more good. 

Witness this new-made world, another heaven 

From heaven-gate not far, founded in view 

On the clear hyaline, the glassy sea ; 

Of amplitude almost immense, with stars 

Numerous, and every star perhaps a world 

Of destined habitation ; but thou knowst 

Their seasons : among these the seat of men, 

Earth with her nether ocean circumfused, 

Their pleasant dwelling-place. Thrice happy men, 

And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanced ! 

Created in his image, there to dwell 

And worship him ; and in reward to rule 

Over his works, on earth, in sea, or air. 

And multiply a race of worshippers 

Holy and just : thrice happy, if they know 

Their happiness, and persevere upright ! " 

So sung they, and the empyrean rung 

With halleluiahs : thus was the Sabbath kept. MiLTON. 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING* 109 

FIRST LINES OF MECHANICS. 

Every body continues in its state of rest, or of uniform 
motion in a right line, unless compelled to change that 
state by force impressed upon it. All change of motion 
is proportioned to the force impressed, and is made in the 
direction of that force. Action and reaction are always 
equal and opposite ; or the mutual actions of two bodies 
are always equal and in contrary directions : — These 
three general facts are denominated the laws of motion ; 
they form the axioms in the science of mechanics ; and 
all the facts and inferences which relate to the motion of 
bodies presuppose their truth, and are deducible from 
them. 

When a body is simultaneously acted upon by two 
forces, the one of which would carry it in one direction, 
and the other in another, it will move in a line betwixt 
the two. Thus, if a piece of wood be thrown into a river, 
when the wind blows right across, it will be carried to 
the other side, but lower down. If the two forces are 
uniform, the body moves thi-ough the diagonal of a paral- 
lelogram ; but if only one of the forces is uniform, and 
the other constantly accelerating or retarding, the body 
passes through a curve ; thus, when a stone is thrown 
from the hand, the force impressed upon it tends to make 
it go on uniformly in the direction given to it ; but, in 
consequence of the action of gra^dty, it is drawn more and 
more from the straight line in which it set off, till it is at 
last brought to the ground. The two forces here acting 
upon it make it describe a curve, which, but for the re- 
sistance of the atmosphere, would be a parabola. The 
planets are kept in their orbits by the action of two forces, 
the one drawing them to the sun, the other inclining them 
to fly off at a tangent ; the consequence is (both forces 
being constant), that they revolve in orbits nearly circular. 

The Momentum of a moving body is its weight com- 
bined with the velocity of its motion. Let us take a ball 
of lead and lay it on the ground, its weight will press oa 



110 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. HI. 

it ; but let us give it velocity also by throwing it on the 
ground, it will then have momentum, and make a mark. 
Sand is employed for shooting small birds, which it is 
intended to kiU without injuring their plumage; sand 
blown by the wind would have no effect. Momentum 
may be increased by increasing either the velocity or the 
weight of a body ; and its amount may always be esti- 
mated, by multiplying the weight and velocity together. 
It was on the principle that the momentum of a body is 
augmented by increasing its velocity, that, in ancient 
naval battles, the rowers strained with all their might at 
the onset ; it is on the same principle that a ram, previous 
to striking, moves a little backward, and the same prin- 
ciple explains the battering-ram and many other warlike 
instruments of the ancients. 

All bodies near our earth are drawn towards it, and in 
a direct line towards its centre, by the force of gravity. 
If from the top of a high tower or precipice, a stone be 
dropped, whatever number of feet it falls in the first 
second, it will fall three times as many in the second, 
Hyq times as many in the third, seven times as many in 
the fourth, and so on. It falls, therefore, four times as 
much in two seconds as it does in one second, nine times 
as much in three, and sixteen times as much in four 
seconds. Therefore, to find how far a body falls in any 
given time, in other words, to find the height of the 
tower or precipice, multiply the space through which it 
falls in the first second by the square of the number of 
seconds. By experiment it is found, that a body falls 
16 feet 1 inch in the first second; in two seconds, there- 
fore, it will fall 64 feet 4 inches ; in three seconds, 144 
feet 9 inches, &c. A body rolling down an inclined 
plane, as the side of a hill, observes the same law — only 
the distance it rolls the first second depends upon the 
degree of inclination of the plane. 

In retiring from the centre of the earth, gravity de- 
creases as the square of the distance. Thus, a body 
4000 miles from the surface of the earth, being twice as 
far from the centre as it would be at the surface, would 



SECT. in. A COURSE OF READING. Ill 

weigh only l-4th of what it usually does ; if 8000 miles 
from the surface, or three semi-diameters from the centre, 
it would weigh only l-9th of what it usually does ; if as 
far as the moon, or 60 semi-diameters, it would weigh 
only l-3600th part. It is impossible to prove directly^ 
that the weight of a body is thus diminished by distance 
from the centre of the earth, as that by which we would 
compare it must suffer an equal loss by the elevation; 
but the pendulum affords the means of proving it indi- 
rectly. The vibration of a pendulum depends entirely 
upon the attraction of the earth; the smaller, therefore, 
the attraction is, the less quickly will a pendulum vi- 
brate, and the more slowly will a clock move. At the 
top of a high mountain, accordingly, a pendulum does not 
oscillate so fast as on the plain. At the equator, which 
is farther from the centre than places in the polar regions, 
a clock with a pendulum of the same length moves more 
slowly than with us. It was this fact, observed at Cay- 
enne, which led Newton to suppose that the earth was not 
perfectly spherical, but flattened towards the poles; and ac- 
tual measurement has verified his conjecture, — the polar 
diameter being found to be 26 miles less than the equatorial. 

The Centre of Gravity is that point of a body, around 
which all its parts are so equally balanced, that, if it be 
supported, the whole body will be so too. Take a book, 
and find by trial under what part the finger must be 
placed to keep the book from falling ; above that point is 
the centre of gravity. The centre of gravity always de- 
scends first. The cork of a shuttlecock always comes 
down before the feathers ; and, for this reason, the point 
of an arrow is made heavier than the other end. A 
straight line, falling perpendicular to the ground from 
the centre of gravity, is called the line of direction. The 
broader the base upon which a body rests, the more dif- 
ficult it will be to overturn it, as it must be moved the 
more to bring the line of direction beyond the base. A 
cask is easily rolled along ; a box is moved with dif- 
ficulty. When a man, in wrestling, is likely to be 
thrown down, he puts his feet as far asunder as possible. 



112 A COURSE OF READING?. SECT. IH. 

The higher this centre of gravity, the more easily is a 
body overturned. A coach, empty inside, with passen- 
gers and luggage outside, is in more danger than if there 
be people inside. In man, the centre of gravity is so 
situated that the line of direction falls between his feet ; 
the same in the case of quadrupeds. It is not easy for a 
dog to stand on his hind-legs, as the centre of gravity lies 
far forward. Ducks, geese, and swans walk awkwardly 
for the same reason. In cats, and animals that spring 
upon their prey, the centre of gravity is so situated, that 
they uniformly fall on their feet. — (See Illustrations^ 
Fig, 7.) Mitchell. 



GEOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. 

1. Land and Water. — When I cast my eyes over a 
map of the world, I perceive that it consists of one vast 
ocean, in which two large and many small islands are 
placed. There is, properly speaking, only one sea, which 
covers nearly three-fourths of the surface of the earth. 
All the gulfs and inland seas form only portions detached, 
but not entirely separated from that universal sea. Con- 
venience, however, has recommended a division of this 
sea ; and the following classification, though not that gen- 
erally adopted, strikes me as the most simple and natural : 
— The AustrO' Oriental Basin^ including the South Sea, 
the Pacific Ocean, and the Indian Ocean, with their re- 
spective gulfs, inland seas, &c. ; and the Western Basin^ 
including the Northern Ocean, the Atlantic Ocean, and 
the Ethiopic Ocean, with their respective gulfs, &c. 

The form of the Western Basin is very remarkable. 
It resembles a channel narrowing towards the poles, and 
it is flanked on both sides by projections of land and 
inland seas, that bear a close resemblance to each other. 
The situation of Britain and the adjoining coasts on the 
one side, closely resembles that of Newfoundland and 
the adjacent shore on the other ; .the peninsula of Spain 
resembles that of Florida; the coast of Upper Guinea 
that of Brazil ; and the shores of Africa those of South 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 1 1 3 

America. The Baltic and Northern Seas correspond to 
Baffin^ s and Hudson's Bays ; the Mediterranean Sea to 
the Gulf of Mexico. With respect to the Austro- Orien- 
tal Basin, I have only one singular fact to mention, — it 
is surrounded, or nearly so, with a chain of moimtains, 
steep towards the sea, and sloping towards the landward 
side. This chain commences with Table Mountain in 
the South of Africa, proceeds to Behring's Straits, and 
thence through America southward to Cape Horn. Many 
smaller chains radiate from this chain at different angles, 
and, in general, the land, as may be determined by the 
course of the rivers, gradually slopes from the summit of 
this great chain towards the shores of the Western Basin ; 
in America, Africa, and Europe, at least, this is very 
obvious. 

The two great continents present a remarkable simi- 
larity of appearance in one respect — the direction of their 
peninsulas ; for, with the exception of two, Yucatan and 
Jutland, which consist only of plains of alluvial land, 
they are all turned towards the south. But the general 
direction of the land is entirely different in the two con- 
tinents ; in the new it extends from pole to pole ; whilst 
in the old it is nearly parallel to the equator. The pe- 
culiarities of the isthmuses which divide each continent 
into two unequal parts, — Suez being composed of sand, 
and Panama of granite and pophyry, — ^lead us to remark 
another very singular difference in those two great islands 
of the globe. The ancient world is in almost every paii; 
open to the advances of the ocean ; and from the Straits 
of Behring to those of Babelmandeb on the one side, and 
to those of Gibraltar on the other, the bays, gulfs, inland 
seas, &C., are in a sort of equilibrium, at least in respect 
to numbers ; whilst the mass of Africa alone is not pene- 
trated by a single gulf. The new continent, on the con- 
trary, has only one considerable gulf, that of California, 
on its western shore ; buf presents, on its eastern, a con- 
tinued chain of gulfs, inland seas, aixl magnificent rivers. 



2. The Ocean. — The chief properties of the ocean, 

f2 



114 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. III. 

which It is the business of physical geography to investi- 
gate, are its depth, the quantity of water it contains, its 
motions, temperature, and saltness. 

With respect to its depth^ no certain conclusions have yet 
been formed. The Atlantic Ocean has been recently sounded 
with a line of 8f miles long, which reached the bottom. 
Along the coast its depth has generally been found propor- 
tioned to the height of the shore ; where the coast is high 
and mountainous, the sea that washes it is deep ; but where 
the coast is low, the water is shallow. — To calculate the 
quantity of water it contains we must therefore suppose 
a medium depth. If we reckon its average depth at two 
miles, it will contain 296 millions of cubical miles of 
water. We shall have a more specific idea of this enor- 
mous mass of water, if we consider that it is sufficient 
to cover the whole globe to the height of more than 8000 
feet; and if this water were reduced to one spherical 
mass, it would form a globe of more than 800 miles in 
diameter. 

The ocean has three hinds of motions. The first is that 
undulation which is produced by the wind, and which is 
entirely confined to its surface. It is now ascertained 
that this motion can be destroyed, and its surface ren- 
dered smooth, by throwing oil upon its waves. The sec- 
ond motion is that continual tendency which the whole 
water in the sea has towards the west, which is greater 
near the equator than towards the poles. It begins on 
the west side of America, where it is moderate ; but as 
the waters advance westward their motion is accelerated ; 
and, after having traversed the globe, they return, and 
strike with great violence on the eastern shore of Amer- 
ica. Being stopped by that continent, they rush with 
impetuosity into the Gulf of Mexico, thence they pro- 
ceed along the coast of North America, till they come to 
the south side of the great bank of Newfoundland, when 
they turn off and run down through the Western Isles. 
This motion is most probably owing to the diurnal re- 
volution of the earth on its axis, which is in a direction 
contrary to the motion of the sea. The third motion of 



SECT. ni. A COURSE OF READING. 115 

the sea is the tide^ which is a regular swell of the ocean 
every 12 J hours. This motion is now ascertained to be 
owing to the attractive influence of the moon, and also 
partly to that of the sun. There is always a flux and 
reflux at the same time, in two parts of the globe, and these 
are opposite to each other, so that when our antipodes 
have high water we have the same. When the attractive 
powers of the sun and moon act in the same or in opposite 
directions, which happens at the time oinew and/i^ZZ moon^ 
we have the highest or spring-tides ; but when the lines 
of their attraction are at right angles to each other, which 
happens at the quarters^ we have the lowest or neap-tides. 

As water is a worse conductor of heat than land, that is, 
absorbs and gives out heat more slowly, the temperature 
of the sea is subject to fewer and less extensive variations 
than the land. It is never so cold in winter, nor so hot 
in summer ; for, when the surface of the water is cooled 
in winter, it becomes specifically heavier than the inferior 
stratum, and sinks ; and when it is more heated in sum- 
mer, it is carried ofl" by evaporation, and in this way the 
uniformity of temperature is preserved. 

The saltness of the sea is one of its most distinctive 
features. It contains a great quantity of saline sub- 
stances, to which it owes its peculiar taste. Besides com- 
mon salt, or muriate of soda, sea-water is impregnated 
with muriate of magnesia, sulphate of magnesia, and sul- 
phate of lime. And the amount of the saline ingredients 
varies from ^V to ^V ; the proportion being greatest at a 
distance from the shore, and from the vicinity of large 
rivers, by which the waters of the ocean are diluted. It 
is easier to perceive the great advantages resulting from 
this saltness, than to discover its origin. Without this 
saltness, and without the agitation in which they are con- 
tinually kept, the waters of the sea would become tamted, 
and would be infinitely less adapted for the motion of 
vessels ; and probably it is;to this also that the inhabitants 
of the ocean owe their existence. Dick. 



3. Mountains, — The highest mountains in the world, 
according to the latest accounts, are the Himalaya chain, 



116 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. III. 

north of Bengal, on the borders of Tibet. The highest 
mountain in this range is stated to be 28,177 feet, or 
about 5J miles in perpendicular height, and is visible 
at the distance of 230 miles. Next to the Himalayas are 
the Andes, in South America, which extend more than 
4000 miles in length, from the province of Quito to the 
Straits of Magellan. The highest summit of the Andes is 
Aconcagua in Upper Peru, which is said to be 23,912 feet, or 
4^ miles above the level of the sea. The highest moun- 
tains in Europe are the Alps, which run through Switzer- 
land and the north of Italy ; the Pyrenees, which separate 
France from Spain; and the Dovrefeld, which divide 
Norway from Sweden. The most elevated ridges in Asia, 
besides the Himalaya, are Mount Taurus, Imaus, Caucasus, 
Ararat, the Uralian, the Altaian, and the Japanese moun- 
tains ; in Africa, Mount Atlas, the Mountains of the Moon, 
and the mountains opposite Fernando Po. Some of the 
mountains in these ranges are found to contain immense 
caverns, or perforations of more than two miles in circum- 
ference, reaching from their summits to an immeasurable 
depth into the bowels of the earth. From these dreadful 
openings are frequently thrown up, to an immense height, 
torrents of fire and smoke, rivers of melted metals, clouds 
of ashes and cinders, and sometimes redhot stones and enor- 
mous rocks, to the distance of several miles, accompanied 
with thunders, lightnings, darkness, and horrid subterra- 
neous sounds, producing the most terrible devastations 
through all the surrounding districts. The most noted 
mountains of this kind in Europe are Mount Hecla, in Ice- 
land; Etna, in Sicily; and Vesuvius, near the city of 
Naples, in Italy. Two great volcanic ranges have been 
traced, the one extending from Chili to the north of Mexico, 
the other from the Peninsula of Alaska to the Aleutian, Ja- 
panese, Philippine, and East Indian Islands. Besides these 
extended lines there are several smaller groups and single 
burning mountains both in Asia and America, as well as in 
the African Islands ; the whole number of active volcanoes 
being estimated at about 200. — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 8.) 
Mountains serve a variety of useful purposes. Their 
lofty summits are destined by Providence to arrest the 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 117 

vapours which float in the regions of the air; their 
internal cavities form so many spacious basins for the 
reception of waters distilled from the clouds ; they are 
the original source of springs and rivers, which water and 
fertilize the earth ; they form immense magazines, in 
which are deposited stones, metals, and minerals, which 
are of so essential service in the arts that promote the 
comfort of human life ; they serve for the production of a 
vast variety of herbs and trees ; they arrest the progress of 
storms and tempests; they afford shelter and entertain- 
ment to various animals which minister to the wants of 
mankind : in a word, they adorn and embelKsh the face 
of nature ; they form thousands of sublime and beautiful 
landscapes, and afford from their summits the most de- 
lightful prospects of the plains below. All these cuxum- 
stances demonstrate the wisdom of the Great Architect of 
nature, and lead us to conclude, that mountains, so far 
from being rude excrescences, form an essential part in the 
constitution, not only of our globe, but of all habitable 
worlds. Dick. 



THE COVENANTERS. 

They stood prepared to die, a people doom'd 

To death ; — old men, and youths, and simple maids. 

With them each day was holy ; but that mom, 

On which the angel said, See where the Lord 

Was laid^ joyous arose ; to die that day 

Was bliss. Long ere the dawn, by devious ways^ 

O'er hills, through woods, o'er dreary wastes, they sought 

The upland moors, where rivers, there but brooks, 

Dispart to different seas. Fast by such brooks 

A little glen is sometimes scoop'd, a plat 

With greensward gay, and flowers that strangers seem 

Amid the heathery wild, that all around 

Fatigues the eye : in solitudes hke these 

Thy persecuted children, Scotia, foil'd 

A tyrant's and a bigot's bloody laws : 

There, leaning on his spear (one of the array, 

Whose gleam, in former days, had scathed the rose 

On England's banner, and had powerless struck 



1 18 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. Ill, 

The infatuate monarch and his wavering host), 
The lyart veteran heard the word of God 
By Cameron thunder'd, or by Renwick pour'd 
In gentle stream : then rose the song, the loud 
Acclaim of praise ; the wheeling plover ceased 
Her plaint ; the sohtary place was glad : 
And on the distant cairns the watchers' ear* 
Caught doubtfully at times the breeze-borne note. 
But years more gloomy foUow'd ; and no more 
The assembled people dared, in face of day, 
To worship God, or even at the dead 
Of night, save when the wintry storm raved fierce, 
And thunder-peals compelled the men of blood 
To couch within their dens ; then dauntlessly 
The scatter'd few would meet, ui some deep dell 
By rocks o'ercanopied, to hear the voice. 
Their faithful pastor's voice : he by the gleam 
Of sheeted lightning oped the sacred book, 
And words of comfort spake : over their souls 
His accents soothing came, — as to her young 
The heathfowl's plumes, when, at the close of eve, 
She gathers in, mournful, her brood dispersed 
By murderous sport, and o'er the remnant spreads 
Fondly her wings ; close nestling 'neath her breast. 
They, cherish'd, cower amid the purple blooms. 

Grahame. 



SUFFERINGS OF THE EARLY CHRISTIANS. 

Several happy years had passed away, during which 
the mind of Harry Beaufoy continued in a course of pro- 
gressive improvement. His attention having been suc- 
cessfully directed to the observation of those proofs of 
Divine power and wisdom which are manifest in the 
works of creation, he did not relinquish a habit which 
proved the source of continually increasing pleasure to 
him. As the powers of Harry's mind gradually unfolded, 



* Sentinels were placed on the surrounding hills to give warning of 
the approach of the military. 



SECT. in. A COURSE OF READING. 119 

he became more of a companion to his mother. She was 
in the practice of devoting an hour every morning to 
hearing him read, and bestowed a great deal of pains in 
selecting subjects likely to conduce to his improvement. 
In consequence of enjoying this advantage, Harry Beau- 
foy, at the age of thirteen, was familiar with many of the 
finest passages of our poets and historians. His increas- 
ing knowledge of words was also made subservient to the 
improvement of his taste and understanding ; and, as he 
was encouraged to ask questions and propose difficulties, 
the hour of reading often gave birth to some interesting 
conversation, calculated to impress his mind with the 
superior importance of moral and religious principle. 

One evening, after reading an account of the sufferings 
of the Waldenses for their religious opinions^ Harry led to 
a conversation of this kind, by asking his mother, whether 
any other people had undergone such cruel treatment as 
ihe Waldenses. 

^' Yes,*' replied she ; ^' I have read of a people whose 
simplicity of character, zeal in propagating their religion, 
and constancy under suffering, very much resembled 
what we have heard of the inhabitants of the valleys.'' 
Taking up a Testament that was lying on the sofa, she 
continued, — " "We shall find the best account of them 

" Surely you cannot mean that the apostles resembled 
the Waldenses?'' 

" Let St Paul speak for himself," rephed Mrs Beau- 
foy, taming to the 11th chapter of his Second Epistle to 
the Corinthians, from which she read the following pas- 
sage : — " Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes 
save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I 
stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck," &c. " Nor were 
such sufferings peculiar to St Paul ; they were common 
to all the early Christians." 

" But if the Christians did not break the laws, or give 
any just cause of offence, I cannot understand why they 
should be exposed to such general persecution." 



120 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. III. 

" This was one of the wise appointments of Providence 
for which we have reason to be thankful.^' 

" Oh ! mamma, when innocent people were shame- 
fully treated, surely this is a strange cause for thankful- 
ness ! " 

^' It does appear very strange, I confess; but are you 
not aware that it is of the utmost importance for us to be 
quite sure that our religion is tiruef^^ 

" Certainly; I never thought of doubting the truth of 
it ; but these shocking sufferings of good people for the 
sake of religion are very puzzling.*' 

" We are apt to doubt of things that puzzle us,*' re- 
plied Mrs Beaufoy ; ^* and, therefore, in an affair so im- 
portant as religion, it is necessary for us to endeavour to 
understand the true reason of those appointments, which 
at first sight do not seem agreeable to the just government 
of Providence.'' 

" And that," said Harry, " is the very thing I wish you 
to explain to me." 

" Well, then, let me first ask you, whether it is likely 
that the Son of God would come down from heaven, and 
suffer upon earth for the salvation of men^ without some 
very wonderful circumstances attending such a transac- 
tion." 

*' Certainly not; because the thing itself is so very 
astonishing. It appears more surprising the longer I 
think about it." 

" And are we not naturally inclined to doubt an 
astonishing story, unless we have very good reason for 
believing it to be true ? We might, however, be inclined 
to believe it, if we heard it from persons of good character, 
who declared that they witnessed the transaction ; but 
if, in order to attest the truth of the story, it was neces- 
sary for these persons to expose themselves to a great deal 
of mortification and ill-treatment ; and if, notwithstanding 
this, they were all to persist in giving the same account 
of what had happened, it seems to me impossible not to 
believe them." 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 121 

" I think so too/' said Hany ; ^' if we can be quite 
sure that they were not mistaken.'' 

*' Undoubtedly that is a point which ought to be de- 
termined, before we give credit to any event out of the 
common course of nature; and it is our business to 
examine whether it was possible for the witnesses to be 
deceived. The first Christians united in asserting a most 
astonishing fact : they were poor, illiterate men, possess- 
ing neither talents nor influence to give them credit with 
their countrymen; but they were quite sure of what they 
had seen with their own eyes ; and, rather than conceal 
or deny the truth, they willingly submitted to the great- 
est dangers and sufferings, not of a transient nature, but 
protracted through a long course of years ; many of them 
even laying down their lives in support of this singular 
assertion." 

^' I thought, mamma, they were persecuted for being 
Christians, not for asserting any particular fact." 

" But what was it that made them Christians ? Was 
it not the facts which they witnessed ? Was it not the 
resurrection of Jesus that convinced them he was the 
Messiah?" 

" Then, it seems, that asserting that Christ was the 
Messiah brought persecution on his disciples?" 

*' Yes; and no wonder the Jews should be em^aged at 
an assertion which reproached them with the guilt of 
despising and rejecting, and cruelly putting to death the 
Son of God. Besides, it shocked all their fondest hopes 
and prejudices. They had worked themselves into a 
persuasion, that the long -promised Deliverer would, on 
his arrival, effect some wonderful change in the condition 
of their country; they did not think of a deliverance 
from the power and guilt of sin — of freedom from the 
tyranny of evil passions — ^but from the dominion of the 
Romans. They clung to this hope under every misfor- 
tune of their country, and with greater eagerness as its 
calamities increased ; they were buoyed up by it during 
the miseries of the most dreadful siege recorded in his- 
tory. Josephus tells us, that, on the day when the city 



122 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. III. 

was taken, a false prophet persuaded these infatuated 
people to ascend the battlements of the Temple, in ex- 
pectation of there receiving miraculous signs of their 
deliverance." 

*^ I see it plainly now, mamma. The apostles could 
have nothing but ill treatment to expect from all their 
countrymen who did not believe them." 

" And do you believe it possible, that people would 
choose to undergo such sufferings in attestation of a false- 
hood by which they could gain no worldly advantage, 
while their hypocrisy would expose them to the Divine 
displeasure?" 

" Why — ^no ; I should think not," said Harry, rather 
doubtfully. 

" You surprise me, my dear chUd. How can you sup- 
pose the possibility of such madness?" 

" I was thinking just then of the Old Man of the 
Mountain, and that his followers would leap from the top 
of a tower at the slightest sign from their chief."* 

" And did they expect to gain nothing by such implicit 
devotion to his will?" 

" Oh, yes ; they were taught from chUdhood to believe 
that it would procure them eternal happiness." 

*' Then was not leaping from the tower a proof that 
they were sincere in that belief?" 

" Certainly, mamma." 

'^ Very weU, Harry ; then your story, instead of weak- 
ening my argument, will confirm it. The belief of these 
Mahometan enthusiasts related to a matter of opinion^ in 
which, from what we know of the Divine government, 
we conclude that they were mistaken ; but the assertion 
of the apostles related to a matter of fact. We know 
to a certainty whether we see a person or do not see him ; 
it is a case which admits of no mistake. When Christ 
appeared again, it was not once, to two or three individ- 
uals, but repeatedly, and to a great number. ^ He was 
seen,' says St Paul, ' of Cephas, then of the twelve. After 

* English Stories, vol. i. p. 344. 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 123 

that lie was seen of above five hundred brethren at once, 
of whom the greater part remain unto the present.' If 
the story was false, would Paul have ventured to mention 
this host of living witnesses, who might so easily have 
come forward and contradicted the statement?'' 

A pause of some minutes followed, when Harry again 
asked his mother, — ^' But how came the Romans to be 
angry with the Christians ? They could have no popular 
expectations to be disappointed; on the contrary, they 
must have been glad that the Messiah was not a conquer- 
ing prince.'' 

" You had better judge of the feelings of the Romans 
from their own account of the circumstances. Give me 
the fourth volume of Murphy's Tacitus out of the book- 
case, and I will find the passage for you." 

Harry then read to his mother the account of that 
dreadful fire, by which more than three quarters of the 
city were destroyed. Mrs Beaufoy turned over a few 
pages, and said, — " Read on from that place." Harry 
obeyed, and read as follows : — " But neither these relig- 
ious ceremonies, nor the liberal donations of the prince, 
could efface from the minds of men the prevailing opinion, 
that Rome was set on fire by his own orders. In order, 
if possible, to remove the imputation, he determined to 
transfer the guilt to others. For this purpose he punished, 
with exquisite tortures, a race of men detested for their 
evil practices, by vulgar appellation commonly called 
Christians. The name was derived from Christ, who, in 
the reign of Tiberius, suffered under Pontius Pilate, the 
procurator of Judea. They were put to death with ex- 
quisite cruelty, and to their sufferings Nero added mock- 
ery and derision. Some were covered with the skins of 
wild beasts, and left to be devoured by dogs ; others were 
nailed to the cross; numbers were burnt alive; and 
many, covered over with inflammable matter, were lighted 
up, when the day declined, Xo serve as torches dilring the 
night." 

** What a horrible monster that Nero must have been !" 
said Harry, when he had finished reading ; " but it seems 



124 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. III. 

as if Tacitus, though he pitied the sufferings of the Chris- 
tians, thought them a wicked people.'' 

" He certainly entertained the popular prejudice 
against them. The Jews had been banished from Rome 
by the Emperor Claudius, who preceded Nero, on account 
of their raising seditious tumults: the Christians, being 
only an obscure sect among the Jews, were included in 
the number, and the rebellious and vindictive spirit of 
the latter was imputed to the former without discrimina- 
tion.'' 

*' I do not like Tacitus at all!" exclaimed Harry; ^^ it 
was shameful to misrepresent the conduct of a people who 
had already suffered so much." 

" Yet the testimony of Tacitus is valuable, and not 
less so for coming from an enemy of the Christians. You 
see, it proves that our Saviour suffered under Pontius 
Pilate, and that there were, within thirty- one years after 
his crucifixion, great numbers of Christians, not only in 
Judea, but at Rome ; and this agrees with the account 
we have in the Scriptures." Mrs Hack. 



HOME. 

There is a land, of every land the pride, 
Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside ; 
Wliere brighter suns dispense serener light, 
And milder moons emparadise the night ; 
A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth, 
Time-tutor'd age, and love-exalted youth : 
The wandering mai'iner, whose eye explores 
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores, 
Views not a realm so bountiful and fair, 
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air ; 
In every clime the magnet of his soul, 
Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole 
For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace. 
The heritage of nature's noblest race, 
There is a spot of earth supremely blest, 
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest. 
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside 
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride, 



SECT. III. A COURSE OF READING. 125 

Wliile in his soften'd looks benignly blend 
The she, the son, the husband, brother, friend ; 
Here woman reigns ; the mother, daughter, wife, 
Strew Avith fresh flowers the narrow way of life I 
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye. 
An angel-guard of loves and graces lie ; 
Ai'ound her knees domestic duties meet, 
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet. 
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be foimd ! 
Art thou a man ? — a patriot ? — look around ; 
0, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, 
That land thy country, and that spot thy Home. 

O'er China's garden-fields, and peopled floods, 

In California's pathless world of woods ; 

Round Andes' heights, where Winter from his throne 

Looks down in scorn upon the summer zone ; 

By the gay borders of Bermuda's isles. 

Where spring v^ith everlasting verdure smiles ; 

On pure Madeh'a's vine-robed hills of health ; 

In Java's swamps of pestilence and wealth ; 

Where Babel stood, where wolves and jackals drink, 

'Midst weeping willows on Euphrates' brink ; 

On Carmel's crest ; by Jordan's reverend stream, 

Where Canaan's glories vanish like a dream ; 

Where Greece, a spectre, haunts her heroes' graves. 

And Rome's vast ruins darken Tiber's waves ; 

WTiere broken-hearted Switzerland bewails 

Her subject mountains and dishonom-'d vales ; 

Where Albion's rocks exidt amidst the sea, 

Around the beauteous isle of Liberty ; 

Man, through aU ages of revolving time. 

Unchanging man in every varying clime, 

Deems his own land of every land the pride. 

Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside ; 

His Home the spot of earth supremely blest, 

A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest. 

Montgomery. 



126 A COURSE OF READINa. SECT. IV. 



SECTION IV. 



VEGETABLE PHYSIOLOGY. 

Plants, whether regarded as individuals, or as grouped 
in the garden, the field, and the landscape, are objects of 
universal interest. The beauty of their forms ; the 
delicacy, harmony, and splendour of their colours ; the 
fragrance which they exhale ; the refreshing verdure and 
the convenient shade which we owe to them, besides 
their more important uses in contributing largely to our 
raiment, our sustenance, and our lodging ; — these connect 
our interests, and even our existence, with theirs : whilst 
the examination of their conformation, and the observation 
of their functions, as organized living beings, expand and 
elevate the mind, and raise its contemplations in wonder 
and in gratitude to the great Source of all life. 

While a plant differs from an animal in exhibiting no 
signs of perception or voluntary motion, and in possessing 
no stomach to serve as a receptacle for its food, there ex- 
ists between them a close analogy both of parts and func- 
tions. The stem and branches act as a framework or 
skeleton for the support and protection of the parts nec- 
essary to the life of the individual. The root serves the 
purpose of a stomach by imbibing nutritious juices from 
the soil, and thus supplying the plant with materials for 
its growth. The sap or circulating fluid composed of 
water holding in solution saline, extractive, mucilaginous, 
saccharine, and other soluble substances, corresponds in its 
office to the blood of animals ; and in its passage through 
the leaves, which may be termed the lungs of a plant, it 
is fully exposed to the agency of light and air, and expe- 
riences a change by which it is more completely adapted 
to the wants of the vegetable economy. 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OP READING. 127 

Motion of the Sap. — The fluids destined to nourish a 
plant, being absorbed in the root, where they are con- 
yerted into sap, are carried up into the leaves hy what 
are called the common vessels, — a particular set of these, 
appropriated to each leaf, branching off, a few inches be- 
low the leaf to which they belong, from the main channels 
that pass along the alburnum. These vessels may be con- 
sidered as analogous to the arteries of animals, or rather 
they are the stomach, lacteals, and arteries, all in one. 
They absorb the nutritious fluids afforded by the soil, in 
which, possibly, as they pass through the root, some change 
analogous to digestion takes place ; for there is in general 
a great difference between the fluids of the root and those 
of the rest of the plant. 

Part of the sap is conveyed into the flowers and fruit, 
but by far the greater portion is carried into the leaves. 
In these organs the sap is exposed to the action of light, 
air, and moisture, three powerful agents, by which it is 
enabled to form various secretions, at the same time that 
much superfluous matter passes off by perspiration. These 
secretions not only give peculiar flavours and qualities to 
the leaf itself, but are returned by another set of vessels 
into the new layer of bark, which they nourish and bring 
to perfection, and which they enable in its turn to secrete 
matter for a new layer of alburnum the ensuing year. It 
is presumed that one set of the returning vessels may 
be more particularly destined to this latter office, and 
another to the secretion of the peculiar fluids, as gum, 
resin, &c., which are known to be deposited and perfected 
in the bark. 

A portion of the sap, we said, is conveyed to the flower 
and fruit; but no matter of increase is furnished from 
the flowers or their stalks, as from leaves, to the part of 
the branch below them, or indeed to any other part. There 
can be no doubt that certain parts of the flower perfoiTu 
functions as to air and light analogous to those of leaves, 
but entirely subservient to the benefit of the flower and 
fruit. Their secretions, formed from the returning sap, 
are confined to their own purposes. As soon as these are 



128 A COUESE OF READINa, SECT. IV, 

accomplished, a decided separation of vessels takes place, 
and the ripe fruit, accompanied perhaps by its stalk, falls 
from the tree. 

All this should help us to form some general idea of 
the manner in which the peculiar secretions of plants are 
produced; but when we attempt to consider how the 
particular secretions of different species and tribes of 
plants are formed, — how the same soil, the same atmos- 
phere, should in a leaf of the vine or sorrel produce a 
wholesome acid, and in that of a spurge or manchineel a 
most virulent poison, — how sweet and nutritious herbage 
should grow among the acrid crowfoot and aconite, — we 
find ourselves totally unable to comprehend the existence 
of such wonderful powers in so small and seemingly simple 
an organ as the leaf of a plant. The agency of the 
vital principle alone can account for these wonders, though 
it cannot, to our understanding, explain them. All these 
operations, indeed, are evidently chemical decompositions 
and combinations ; but the thickest veil covers the whole 
of these processes ; and so far have philosophers hitherto 
been from removing this veil, that they have not even 
been able to approach it. Tlie vain Buffon caused his 
own statue to be inscribed, " A genius equal to the maj- 
esty of nature, '^ but a blade of grass was sufficient to 
confound his pretensions. Sir J. E. Smith. 



Leaves, — Leaves, which consist of fibres arranged in 
a kind of network, not only contribute to the beauty of 
plants, but perform functions of essential importance to 
them. They are, as is well known, of various shapes 
and of different sizes. Some are so small as to be micro- 
scopic objects, and others, those of the Talipot palm for 
instance, so large as to measure above 30 feet in circum- 
ference. They also fall at different times, and are differ- 
ently denominated according to the period of their fa]l, 
being caducous, deciduous, persistent, or perennial, ac- 
cording as they fall in summer, in autumn, in spring, or 
only in the course of years. Their use in the vegetable 
economy is now well understood, it being unquestionably 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 129 

ascertained that they serve as lungs to the plant. The 
sap being carried into them by one set of vessels, is there 
spread out and exposed to the action of air and light, and 
exhales its superabundant moisture, and having under- 
gone certain chemical changes (probably analogous to 
those undergone by the blood in the lungs), is received 
into another set of vessels, to be conducted downwards 
and distributed in the cortical cells, depositing there the 
various secretions requisite for the nourishment, health, 
and preservation of the stem and root. 

Leaves perspire and absorb a considerable quantity of 
moisture, in some cases sensibly, but in general insensi- 
bly. A branch which, after being gathered, has had its 
wound stopt with wax, will speedily wither in a dry at- 
mosphere ; but it may be made to recover by removing 
it to a damp situation. Haymakers are quite familiar 
with the fact, that, in moist weather, it is next to impos- 
sible to get their hay-harvest lodged m safety ; and every 
one has observed the effects of a hot day in causing plants 
to droop, and of a moist one in causing them to flourish. 
The great annual sunflower is said to perspire in a hot 
dry day, in 12 hours, not less than 1 lb. 14 oz. ; and the 
cornelian- cherry is a still more remarkable instance, evap- 
orating, it is said, moisture equivalent to twice the 
weight of the whole shrub in 24 hours. The effect of 
light upon leaves is also worthy of notice. It is under- 
stood to be the cause of their green colour. Leaves raised 
in the dark are invariably of a sickly white colour ; and 
the blanching of celery, it is well known, is effected by 
covering up the plant from the light. Light, it is singu- 
lar also, whilst it benefits the upper, injures the under 
sides of leaves ; and none can have attended to fruit-trees 
without remarking, that they invariably turn, not only 
their leaves, but their branches towards the light. If 
leaves are disturbed, they will turn again to their former 
position, and quicker, too, in proportion to the intensity 
of the light. A field of clover following the course of 
the sun, although a familiar spectacle, does not less dis- 
tinctly prove the influence of light on leaves than does 



130 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

the turning of tlie sunflower, tlie marigold, the daisy, &c. 
prove the influence of light upon flowers. We ought not 
to omit quoting, en passant^ the striking remark of Sir 
J. E. Smith in reference to the last -mentioned plants, 
that Nature, in their forms, seems to have imitated the 
radiant luminary to which they are apparently dedicated. 
But the most remarkable fact respecting leaves, per- 
haps, is the reciprocal action of them and the atmosphere 
upon each other. This chemical change, which is called 
the respiration of plants, was discovered by Dr Priestley. 
During exposure to the direct rays of the sun, leaves ab- 
sorb carbonic acid gas from the air, and emit oxygen in 
return. In the dark, an opposite effect ensues. Car- 
bonic acid gas is not absorbed, nor is oxygen evolved ; 
but, on the contrary, oxygen disappears, and carbonic 
acid gas is disengaged. In the sunshine, therefore, vege- 
tables purify the air, but in the dark they deteriorate it, 
producing in the latter instance the same effect as the res- 
piration of animals, but in the former a contrary effect. 



The Seed. — The seed, from which the future plant 
proceeds, is the sole end and aim of all the parts of fruc- 
tification. It consists of several parts, the most essential 
of which is the Embryo or germ, called by Linnaeus Cor- 
culum^ whence the life and organization of the future 
plant originate. The Cotyledons^ or seed-lobes, are im- 
mediately attached to the embryo, of which they form, 
properly speaking, a part ; and they are commonly two in 
number, and, when the seed has sufficiently established its 
root, generally rise out of the ground, and form a kind of 
leaves. Hilum^ the scar, is the point by which the seed 
is attached to its seed-vessel, or receptacle, and through 
which alone nourishment is imparted for the perfecting of 
its internal parts ; it is also the point through which the 
radicle is protruded in the first stage of germination. 

There is no part of the vegetable kingdom which af- 
fords so many striking proofs of admirable contrivance as 
the seed. The care which Nature has bestowed upon it 
is astonishing. Independently of the innumerable means 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 131 

wliich are adopted for maturing and protecting tlie organs 
on which the production of the seed depends, and which 
form part of the system of provision for perfecting it, — 
hidependently, too, of the countless contrivances, some 
highly artificial, for the immediate purpose of perfecting 
it, — the mode in which this organ is preserved after it is 
matured, evinces consummate care and wisdom. Some- 
times it is packed up in a capsule, a vessel composed of 
tough and strong coats ; sometimes, as in stone-fruits and 
nuts, it is enclosed in a strong shell, which again is en- 
closed in a pulp; sometimes, as in grapes and berries, 
it is plunged overhead in a glutinous syrup contained 
within a skin or bladder; at other times, as in apples 
and pears, it is embedded in the heart of a firm fleshy 
substance ; or, as in strawberries, pricked into the sur- 
face of a soft pulp. These, and many other varieties, 
exist in what are called fruits. In pulse, and grain, and 
grasses, — in trees, and shrubs, and flowers, — the variety 
of the seed-vessels is incomputable. We have the seeds, 
as in the pea-tribe, regularly disposed in parchment pods, 
which completely exclude the wet ; the pod also, not sel- 
dom, as in the bean, lined with a fine down distended like 
a blown bladder ; or we have the seed enveloped in wool, 
as in the cotton-plant ; lodged, as in pines, between the 
hard and compact scales of a cone ; or barricaded, as in 
the artichoke and thistle, with spikes and prickles; in 
mushrooms, placed under a penthouse ; in ferns, variously 
sheltered on the back part of the leaf; or, we find them 
covered by a strong close tunicle, and attached to the 
stem according to an order appropriated to each plant, as 
is seen in several kinds of grain and of grasses. 

Equally numerous and admirable are the contrivances 
for dispersing seeds. Who has not listened, in a calm 
and sunny day, to the crackling of furze-bushes, caused 
by the. explosion of their little elastic pods ; or watched 
the down of innumerable seeds floating on the summer 
breeze, till they are overtaken by a shower, which, moist- 
ening their wings, stops their further flight, and at the 
same time accomplishes its final purpose by immediately 
promoting the germination of each seed in the moist earth ! 



132 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

How little are children aware, as they blow away the 
seeds of the dandelion, or stick burs in sport on each 
other^s clothes, that they are fulfilling one of the great 
ends of Nature ! The awns of grasses answer the same 
purpose. Pulpy fruits serve quadrupeds and birds as 
food, while their seeds, often small, hard, and indigest- 
ible, pass uninjured through the intestines, and are 
deposited, far from their original place of growth, in a 
condition peculiarly fit for vegetation. Even such seeds 
as are themselves eaten, like the various sorts of nuts, are 
hoarded up in the ground, and occasionally forgotten, or 
carried to a distance, and in part only devoured. The 
ocean itself serves to waft the larger kind of seeds from 
their native soil to far- distant shores. 



Germination. — Let us endeavour to illustrate the sub- 
ject of Geimination, by taking a view of what happens to 
a bean after it has been committed to the earth. In a 
few days, sooner or later according to the temperature of 
the weather and disposition of the soil, the external cover- 
ings open at one end, and disclose part of the body of 
the germ. This substance consists of two lobes, between 
which the seminal plant is securely lodged. Soon after 
the opening of the membrane, a sharp-pointed body ap- 
pears, which is the root. By a kind of instinctive prin- 
ciple (if the expression may be allowed) it seeks a pas- 
sage downward, and fixes itself into the soil. At this 
period the root is a smooth and polished body, and has 
perhaps but little power to absorb anything from the 
earth for the nutriment of the germ. The two lobes 
next begin to separate, and the germ, with its leaves, 
may be plainly discovered. As the germ increases in 
size, the lobes are farther separated, and the tender leaves, 
being closely joined, push themselves forward in the form 
of a wedge. These leaves take a contrary direction to 
that of the root : they seek a passage upward ; which, 
having obtained, they lay aside their wedge-like form, 
and spread themselves in a horizontal direction, as being 
the best adapted for receiving the raius and dew. The 
radicle, every hour increasing in size and vigour, pushes 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. loo 

itself deeper into the earth, from which it noTY draws 
some nutritive particles. At the same time the leaves 
of the germ, being of a succulent nature, assist the plant 
bj attracting from the atmosphere such particles as the 
tender vessels are fit to convey. These particles, how- 
ever, are of a watery kind, and have not in their own na- 
ture a sufficiency of nutriment for the increasing plant. 
Vegetables, as well as animals, during their tender state, 
require a large share of balmy nourishment. As soon as 
an animal is brought to life, the milk of its mother is 
supplied in a liberal stream: and the tender vegetable 
lives upon a similar fluid, though differently supplied. 
For its use the farinaceous lobes are melted down into a 
milky juice, which is conveyed to the plant by means of 
innumerable small vessels which are spread through the 
substance of the lobes ; and which, uniting into one com- 
mon trunk, enter the body of the germ, and thus supply 
that balmy liquor, without which the plant must inevi- 
tably have perished, its root being then too small to absorb 
a sufficiency of food, and its body too weak to assimilate 
it into nourishment. Thus admirable and well-contrived 
is the method of Providence in supporting the plant in 
its earliest and tenderest stages ! As the plant increases 
in size, the balmy juice diminishes, till at last it is quite 
exhausted. The trunk of small vessels then dries up, 
and the external covering of the seed appears connected 
with the root in the form of a shrivelled bag. — In the 
process of vegetation there is no mortality; from the 
moment that the seed is lodged in its parent earth, the 
vegetative soul begins its operations, and, in the whole 
successive gradation of them, illustrates the wisdom, 
power, and bounty of the Creator. Dr 0. Gregory. 



Adaptation of Plants to their Situations, — ^' Now, Phi- 
lanthesj that we have reached the arbour, sit do^vn and 
inform me what part of the vegetable economy you have 
been studying lately. '^ 

" I have been tracing the adaptation of flowers, in re- 
spect to shape and colour, to the sites in which they 
grow ; and, since you wish it, I shall enumerate a few of 



134 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

the most striking instances that I have remarked. Pa- 
pilionaceous flowers are effectually defended from storms 
of wind and rain by the beautiful pavilions with which 
they are furnished. They are mounted on elastic stems, 
by means of which they are enabled to turn like weather- 
cocks, and present their backs to the driving storms ; and 
this provision is as wise as it is ornamental, for this class 
is generally found in places exposed to wind. In like 
manner the fern^ which frequently crowns the summits 
of exposed situations, has its fructification arranged on the 
under- surface of the leaf, and turned towards the earth ; 
whilst the white archangel, which grows on the sides of 
grassy banks, w^here every blade serves as a conduit for 
the water in showery weather, has its petals beautifully 
curved over the defenceless seeds. Corollas, you know, 
are designed to catch the rays of the sun ; and in cases 
where they are divided into separate petals, they are 
often arranged so as to form an assemblage of polished 
mirrors directing the heat to one focus. It is remark- 
able, however, that, when the situation of the plant ren- 
ders it necessary to dissipate rather than collect the heat, 
this arrangement is interrupted, and the petals are so 
disposed as to preclude any reflection from their polished 
surface on the interior of the flower. This last arrange- 
ment is particularly conspicuous in the white lily. Not- 
withstanding the large size and dazzling whiteness of its 
corolla, the more it expands, the more it disperses the 
solar heat ; and whilst on a midsummer's noon most of 
the flowery tribes droop their parched heads upon the 
ground, the lily rears her head, the empress of the gar- 
den, and contemplates, face to face, the meridian sun. 
Trumpet- shaped flowers, such as the convolvulus ^ convey 
as much heat as possible to the interior ; and it is very 
remarkable, that this configuration is generally given to 
those which grow among high grass, or under the shade 
of trees. This wonderful adaptation is manifest, too, in 
the colours of flowers. White is well known to be pecu- 
liarly calculated for reflecting heat ; and is it not for this 
reason that Nature has invested with this colour those 
flowers which blow in cold seasons and situations; the 



SECT. lY. A COURSE OF READING. 135 

snowdrop^ for instance, the lily of the valley^ ivood-sorrelj 
&c. ? Indeed, almost all spring-flowers are remarkable for 
their light colours. Those of the summer, on the con- 
trary, are robed in tints of the most brilliant kind, fitted 
to absorb the sunbeams without reflecting them in any 
considerable degree.'' 

** You have spoken of the adaptation of the shape and 
colour of our common flowers to their respective situa- 
tions, but you may extend the remark to every class of 
vegetables. The plants of different countries have sepa- 
rate and peculiar characters, according to the nature of 
the soil in which they grow, and to the degree of solar 
heat to which they are exposed. Plants of the polar re- 
gions, for example, are generally low, with small close- set 
leaves, and floAvers proportionally large ; those of Europe 
are divested of showy leaves, and are in many instances 
furnished with catkins ; the Asiatic countries are partic- 
ularly rich in splendid flowers; whilst those of Africa 
have generally succulent leaves and variegated flowers. 
The extraordinary manner in which Natui'e has adapted 
individual plants, too, to their respective stations, is not 
less worthy of attention ; and as I know you are fond of 
tracing such evidences of the hand of Him who is ^ won- 
derful in counsel and excellent in working,'' I shall mention 
a few striking instances. 

" The cypress of Louisiana grows with its roots in 
water, and is principally found on the banks of the Mis- 
sissipppi. The circumference of the trunk is nearly thirty 
feet; and, in order to enable it to resist the floatmg 
masses of ice w^hich, at the breaking up of the wintry 
season, come down in great quantities from the northern 
lakes, there are several large protuberances, acting as 
buttresses, evidently designed to protect the base. These 
protuberances are round and smooth : they have neither 
leaves nor branches, and therefore camiot be considered 
as shoots; they are in fact ice-breakers. The branches 
of the honeysuckle shoot longitudinally, till they become 
unable to bear their own weight, and then strengthen 
themselves by changing into a spiral form. TThen they 
meet with other living branches of the same kind, they 



136 A COURSE OF EEADING. SECT. lY. 

coalesce for mutual support, and one spiral turns to the 
right, and the other to the left ; thus seeking, by an in- 
stinctive impulse, some object on which to climb, and 
increasing the probability of finding one by the diversity 
of their course ; for if the auxiliary branch be dead, the 
other uniformly winds itself round from right to left. 
Plants which thus attach themselves to others are called 
parasitic^ and are divided into two classes, the ornamental 
and injurious. The caraguata^ a plant of the West In- 
dies, is a striking instance of the latter. It clings round 
the nearest tree, and, soon gaining the ascendency, covers 
the branches with a foreign verdure, robs them of nour- 
ishment, and at last destroys its supporter.'' 

"• The distinguishing characteristics of the last you 
have mentioned may, I think, be found among our own 
species. The despot who tyrannizes over the people 
from whom he has derived his power ; the statesman who 
builds his greatness on the ruins of the country that 
nourished him ; and the profligate youth who reduces a 
too-indulgent father to penury by his extravagance ; — all 
belong to the class of the caraguata^ 

" Have you ever turned your attention to aquatic 
plants, Philanthes? Their adaptation to their respective 
situations is very remarkable. One of the most curious 
of aquatic plants is the vallisneria^ which grows abun- 
dantly in the Rhine. "Whilst the roots are fixed at 
the bottom of the river, the flowers float on the surface 
of the water, and are furnished with an elastic spiral 
stalk, which dilates and contracts as the water rises and 
falls. — The leaves of land- vegetables perform the office 
of lungs, by exposing a large surface of vessels to the in- 
fluence of air ; aquatic ones also answer a similar purpose, 
like the gills of fish. As the materials which are necessary 
to life apparently abound much more in air than water, 
the sub-aquatic leaves of many plants are cut into fine 
divisions to increase the surface ; whilst those above the 
water continue undivided. It is equally remarkable, that 
the plants of lofty mountains have their upper leaves much 
more serrated than the lower, because the air is rarer, 
and a larger surface of contact is necessarily required." 



1 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 137 

CHARACTER OF THE LATE REV. DR HARDIE OF ASHKIRK. 

In Dr Hardie learning and knowledge were blended 
with the most unassuming modesty ; and moral excellence 
was tempered by a gentleness of spirit which shed over 
his character peculiar grace. If natural reserve gave to 
his manners on a first acquaintance the air of constraint 
or formality, that appearance was quickly dispelled ; and^ 
delighting in the intercourse of friendship, his conversa- 
tion was frank, liberal, original, and useful. His heart 
was the seat of kindness and compassion, and not merely 
his studies, but even his relaxations, were directed to the 
promotion of the welfare of his fellow- creatures. The 
time which he employed in supplying an important desid- 
eratum in the education of the lower classes, by prepar- 
ing an admirable collection under the title of '' Extracts 
for Parish Schools," affords a convincing proof, that he 
could stoop to the humblest office, when it was in his 
power to do good. His voice in public was somewhat 
feeble, but this was amply compensated by the fineness 
of its modulation and tones ; while the choice of his sub- 
jects, the elegant perspicuity of his style, the pleasing 
expression of his countenance, the growing earnestness 
and pathetic warmth of his manner as he advanced in 
his address, the closeness of his reasoning, and the chas- 
tened luxuriance of his fancy, entitled him to be ranked 
in the first class of Scottish preachers, and in that class 
to hold a distinguished place. In the sequestered spot 
to which his professional labours as a minister of the 
Church of Scotland were chiefly confined, his virtues were 
best known, and most highly appreciated. Long among 
his people will be the remembrance of his worth, and 
deep the sorrow which his early removal will excite. If 
the untimely loss of a character, such as we have faintly 
delineated, be severe to his family, to his friends, and to his 
country, the lesson which i\ affords is solemn and impres- 
sive. Let us bow with reverence to the will of Heaven, and 
learn to look beyond- a world in which there is " nothing 
perpetual but change." Eev. Robert Lundie. 

g2 



138 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 



THE MECHANICAL POWERS. 

Nature has placed at the disposal of man various me- 
chanical agents, endued with different kinds and degrees 
of power. The weight of solid bodies, and their momen- 
tum when in motion ; the weight and pressure of liquids ; 
the weight and pressure of air and other gases ; the elas- 
tic force of vapour raised from liquids by heat ; the elas- 
ticity of springs, and the muscular strength of animals, 
furnish striking examples. In applying these forces to 
overcome resistances, or to communicate motion to bodies, 
it seldom happens that, without some previous modifica- 
tion, they are capable of accomplishing the end we desire 
to attain. The power which we may happen to have at 
our disposal may not act in tl^e proper direction, or may 
not have that velocity or intensity which suits our pur- 
pose ; and some contrivance must be found by which, — in 
transmitting it to the working-point, — its direction, veloc- 
ity, or intensity, may be regulated in such a manner as 
to be suitable to the purpose to which it is to be applied. 
Such a contrivance is called a machine. 

Every machine, however complex, must consist of 
some combination of the simple machines, called the me- 
chanical powers ; these are six in number, the lever, the 
wheel and axle, the pulley, the inclined plane, the wedge, 
and the screw. 

Every one has seen men raising a stone by means of a 
bar of iron. This bar is a Lever, In this machine three 
things are to be considered, the power which presses on 
it, the weight to be raised, and the prop on which it rests. 
The advantage results from having the power much far- 
ther from the prop than the weight is from it. If the 
distance of the power from the prop be four times as 
great as that of the weight from it, the advantage will 
be as 4 to 1. If it be six times as great, the advantage 
will be as 6 to 1 ; and, generally, the power bears to the 
weight an inverse ratio to the arms of the lever. Levers 
are of three kinds : — First, when the prop is between 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 139 

tlie weight and power ; — Second, when the weight is be- 
tween the prop and power ; — Third, when the power is 
between the weight and prop. It is by a lever of the first 
kind that a seaman moves his rudder, a blacksmith his bel- 
lows, and that a boy opens and shuts the locks of a canal. 
Gates and doors are levers of the second kind, and the hinge 
is the prop on which they move. A pair of tongs, a spade, 
a pitchfork for raising hay, and a ladder, whilst in the act 
of being raised against the wall, are instances of levers of 
the third kind. — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 9.) 

In the Wheel and Axle, a weight is raised by means of a 
rope coiling round the axle, whilst the power is applied to 
the outer rim of the wheel. The advantage gained is in 
proportion to the extent to which the width or diameter of 
the wheel exceeds that of the axle. The semi- diameter of 
the wheel, and the semi-diameter of the axle, may be con- 
sidered as levers of which the centre is the common prop. 
An equilibrium will be produced when the power is to the 
weight as the semi- diameter of the axle is to the semi- 
diameter of the wheel, or as the circumference of the axle 
is to the circumference of the wheel. In raising weights 
with this machine the rope coils round the axle and en- 
larges the diameter ; hence the advantage of the power 
is continually diminishing ; and, accordingly, in raising a 
bucket from a deep well the weight is felt much more 
sensibly as it approaches the top. The most common 
and useful applications of the wheel and axle are the 
crane used on wharfs and quays for drawing goods up 
from a ship, and the capstan for lifting the anchors, &c. 
of ships. — (See Illustrations, Fig. 10.) 

The Pulley is a well-known machine, and is used 
principally in managing the rigging of ships. A single 
pulley gives no mechanical advantage, but it is of use in 
altering the direction in which a force may be applied. 
If two pulleys be used, the power will keep in equilibrio 
a weight double its own ; ^if three be used, the power will 
balance three times as much, and so on. In this machine 
the advantage is greatly diminished by the friction of the 
axles and the want of pliancy in the ropes. It may be 



140 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. lY. 

regarded as to principle either as a modification of the lever, 
or as a distinct mechanical power. — [See Illus, Fig, 11.) 

The Inclined Plane is used for the purpose of facili- 
tating the raising of great weights. It is evidently much 
easier to roll a cask along a plank into a waggon than to 
raise it from the ground. In the inclined plane an equi- 
librium is produced when the power is to the weight as the 
height of the plane is to the length of its sloping side ; but 
as the friction in the use of this machine is very great, a 
much less power than that found by calculation will keep 
a body in equilibrio, and a much greater power will be 
requisite to draw it upwards. — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 12.) 

The Wedge is a well-known mechanical power. The 
law of its equilibrium is, that the power should be to the 
weight as half the length of the back is to the length of 
one of the sides ; but, on account of friction and other 
causes, no law can be stated as universally accurate. In 
real practice, all that we can say is, that the less the 
breadth of the back in proportion to the length of the side, 
the greater is the advantage. Nature, whose works uni- 
formly display the utmost wisdom in their design, has 
formed the beaks of birds wedge-shaped for the purpose of 
enabling them to dig into the ground, &c. The figure of 
a bird, too, is similarly fitted for cleaving the air, as is also 
that of the breastbones of waterfowl. (May not the shape 
of boats and ships have been first suggested by the shape of 
these animals ?) A grand military evolution of the ancients 
was forming a battalion into the shape of a wedge ; and 
many instances occur in history of an enemy's line having 
been broken by this contrivance. — [See Illus, Fig, 13.) 

The principle of the Screw is the same as that of the 
inclined plane. The weight, instead of proceeding straight 
forward, moves in a spiral direction, gradually ascending 
to the top ; and the equilibrium is calculated in the same 
manner as in the inclined plane. 



PRESSURE OF WATERY FLUIDS. 

All the particles of fluids are so connected together, that 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 141 

they press equally in every direction, and are equally 
pressed upon; each particle presses equally on all the 
particles that surround it, and is equally pressed upon 
by these ; it equally presses upon the solid bodies which 
it touches, and is equally pressed upon by those bodies. 
From this, and from its gravity, it follows, that when a 
fluid is at rest, and left to itself, its surface will rise or 
fall so as to settle at the same level, no part standing 
above or sinking below the rest. Hence if we pour water 
or any other liquid into a tube or pipe bent double like a 
U, it will stand at the very same height in both limbs. 
Nor does it make any difference if one limb is wider than 
the other. Generally, and in every case, if there be two 
tubes or limbs of a tube connected together, however 
different their width may be, a fluid poured into them 
will stand at the same level, and thus a portion of fluid, 
however small, will resist the pressure of a portion, how- 
ever large, and balance it. — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 14.) 

From these considerations two most important con- 
clusions follow ; the one is, that water, by being confined 
in pipes or close channels of any kind, will rise to the 
height from which it came, that is, as high as its source ; 
and upon this principle depend all the useful contrivances 
for conveying water by pipes, in a way far more easy, 
cheap, and effectual than those vast buildings called aque- 
ducts, by which the ancients carried their supplies of 
water in artificial rivers over arches for many miles. The 
other is not less true, but far more extraordinary, and 
indeed startling to our belief, if we did not consider the 
reasoning upon which it is founded ; it is, that the pres- 
sure of the water upon any object is not at all in propor- 
tion to the bulk of the water, but only to the size of the 
surface on or against which it presses, and its own height 
above that surface ; in other words, that any quantity of 
water, however small, may be made to support any quan- 
tity, however great. This^ principle is called the Hydro- 
statical paradox ; paradox signifying something which, 
though true, appears, when first considered, to be untrue. 
We are at first startled by the apparent impossibility of 



142 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

the statement. But when we come to examine it more 
closely, we find it to be accurately true ; for the small 
tube in the case just mentioned may be made ever so 
narrow, and to hold ever so little water, while the wide 
tube communicating with it may be made ever so large, 
and holding ever so much water ; and the level at which 
the water stands in both tubes will be the same. 

Everything thus depending upon the height and the 
surface, and nothing upon the bulk of the fluid, we may 
easily perceive what mischief may be done by a very 
small quantity of water, if it happens to be applied or 
distributed so as to stand high, in however thin a body 
or column, and to spread over a wide but confined and 
shallow space. This may be easily tried with a hogshead 
of water, or any other liquid, by fixing a small strong 
pipe in the bunghole, and pouring water through it ; 
when the water rises in the pipe to a sufficient height 
(and this will be more or less according to the strength 
of the barrel), the barrel will burst, although but a very 
small quantity of water may have been poured into the 
pipe. 

The same effect may be produced naturally, by the 
rain falling into and filling some long narrow chink that 
may have been .left in the walls of a building, or may be 
made by its decay in the course of time ; and whether 
the chink be equally wide throughout, or vary in its size, 
and whether it be straight like a pipe, or crooked, makes 
no difference ; provided it is water-tight, so as to get full 
of the rain, the pressure will always be in proportion to 
its perpendicular height, and not to its length if it winds. 
The same process in nature may produce the most ex- 
tensive devastation ; it may cause earthquakes, and split 
or heave up mountains. Suppose in the bowels of some 
mountain there should be an empty space of ten yards 
square and only an inch deep on an average, in which a 
tliin layer of water had lodged so as to fill it entirely ; 
and suppose that in the course of time, a small crack of 
no more than an inch in diameter should be worn from 
above 200 feet down to the layer of water ; if the rain 



SECT. ly. A COURSE OF READING. 143 

were to fill this crack the mountain would be shaken, 
perhaps rent in pieces with the greatest violence, being 
blown up with a force equal to the pressure of above 
5022 tons of water, though not above a ton and a half 
altogether had been actually applied. This prodigious 
power, however, may be applied safely, and even benefi- 
cially. In the operations of Nature it is probably an 
important agent ; and it is capable of being applied ad- 
vantageously in the operations of art. 

Library of Useful Knowledge. 



THE HOLY LAND. 

Palestine, the land of Israel, the kingdom of David 
and Solomon, the most favoured and the most guilty 
country under Heaven, — during between two and three 
thousand years the only section of the earth where the 
worship of the true God was perpetuated, — 

" Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet 
"WTiich eighteen hundred years ago were nail'd, 
For our advantage, to the bitter cross," — 

is a small canton of Syria, included within the limits of 
the Turkish empire, and governed by the pashas of Acre 
and Damascus. In the map it presents the appearance 
of a narrow slip of country, extending along the eastern 
coast of the Mediterranean; from which, to the river 
Jordan, the utmost width does not exceed fifty miles. 
This river was the eastern boundary of the land of Ca- 
naan or Palestine, properly so called, which derived its 
name from the Philistines, or Palestines, originally inhab- 
iting the coast. To three of the twelve tribes, how- 
ever, Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh, portions of territory 
were assigned on the eastern side of the river, which were 
afterwards extended by the subjugation of the neighbour- 
ing nations. The territory of Tyre and Sidon was its 
ancient border on the north-west ; the range of the Lib- 
anus and Anti-Libanus forms a natural boundary on 
the north and north-east ; while in the south it is pressed 



144 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. lY. 

upoii by the Syrian and Arabian deserts. The kingdom 
of David and Solomon, however, extended far beyond 
these narrow limits. In the north-eastern direction it 
was bounded only by the river Euphrates, and included a 
considerable part of Syria. On the east and south-east 
it was extended by the conquest of the country of Moab, 
that of the Ammonites, and Edom ; and tracts which 
were either inhabited or pastured by the Israelites lay 
still further eastward. In the time of David, the people 
of Israel, women and children included, amounted, on the 
lowest computation, to five millions, besides the tributary 
Ganaanites, and other conquered nations. 

The vast resources of the country, and the power of 
the Jewish monarch, may be estimated, not only by the 
consideration in which he was held by the contemporary 
sovereigns of Egypt, Tyre, and Assyria, but by the 
strength of the several kingdoms into which the domin- 
ions of David were subsequently divided. Damascus 
revolted during the reign of Solomon, and shook ofi" the 
Jewish yoke. At his death ten of the tribes revolted 
under Jeroboam, and the country became divided into the 
two rival kingdoms of Judah and Israel, having for their 
capitals Jerusalem and Samaria. The kingdom of Israel 
fell before the Assyrian conqueror in the year b. c. 721, 
after it had subsisted about two hundred and fifty years. 
That of Judah survived about one hundred and thirty 
years, Judea being finally subdued and laid waste by 
Nebuchadnezzar, and the Temple burnt, b. c. 588. Idu- 
mea was conquered a few years after. From this period 
till the era of Alexander the Great, Palestine remained 
subject to the Chaldean, Median, and Persian dynasties. 
At his death, Judea fell under the dominion of the kings 
of Syria, and, with some short and troubled intervals, 
remained subject either to the kings of Syria or of Egypt, 
till John Hyrcanus shook off the Syrian yoke, and as- 
sumed the diadem, b. c. 130. The Asmonean dynasty, 
which united in the person of the monarch the functions 
of king and pontiff, though tributary to Roman con- 
querors, lasted one hundred and twenty-six years, till the 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 145 

kingdom was given by Antony to Herod the Great, of 
an Idiimean family, b. c. 39.* 

At the time of the Christian era, Palestine was di- 
vided into ^ve provinces ; Judea, Samaria, Galilee, Perea, 
and Idmnea. On the death of Herod, Archelaus his 
eldest son succeeded to the government of Judea, Sa- 
maria, and Idumea, with the title of tetrarch ; Galilee 
being assigned to Herod Antipas, and Perea, or the coun- 
try beyond Jordan, to the third brother, Philip. But, in 
less than ten years, the dominions of Archelaus became 
annexed, on his disgrace, to the Eoman province of Syria, 
and Judea was thenceforth governed by Roman procura- 
tors. Jerusalem, after its final destruction by Titus, 
A. D. 71, remained desolate and almost uninhabited, till 
the Emperor Hadrian colonized it, and erected temples to 
Jupiter and Venus on its site. The Empress Helena, in 
the fourth century, set the example of repairing in pil- 
grimage to the Holy Land, to visit the scenes consecrated 
by the Gospel narrative, and the country became enriched 
by the crowds of devotees who flocked there. In the 
beginning of the seventh century, it was overrun by the 
Saracens, who held it till Jerusalem was taken by the 
Crusaders in the twelfth. The Latin kingdom of Jeru- 
salem continued for about eighty years, during which the 
Holy Land streamed continually with Christian and Sa- 
racen blood. Li 1187, Judea was conquered by the 
illustrious Saladin ; on the decline of whose kingdom it 
passed through various revolutions, and at length, in 
1317, was finally swallowed up in the Turkish empire : 

" Trodden down 
By all in turn, Pagan, and Frank, and Tartar, — 
So runs the dread anathema, — trodden down 
Beneath the oppressor ; darkness shrouding thee 
From every blessed influence of heaven; 
Thus hast thou lain for ages, iron-bound 
As with a curse. Thus art thou doom'd to lie, 
Yet not for ever." "^ 

* Thirty-five years before the true date of our Lord's hirth, which 
is computed to have taken place four years before the vulgar era. 



146 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. lY. 

The general outlines of the surface of the country may 
be thus laid down. The Jordan, or river of Dan, which 
rises under the lofty peaks of the Anti-Libanus, and flows 
in a dh'ection almost constantly southward, with the lake 
of Tiberias, through which it passes, and that of Asphal- 
tites (the Dead Sea), which it forms by its discharge, 
divides Palestine completely from north to south. In 
the western division, between the Mediterranean and the 
lake of Tiberias, lie the two Galilees. The plain of Es- 
draelon, Vv^hich occupies the greater part of this tract, 
being two days^ journey, or nearly fifty miles in length, 
and twenty in breadth, is described by Dr Clarke as one 
vast meadow, covered with the richest pasture. This 
plain is enclosed on all sides by the mountains, and not a 
house or a tree is to be discovered in it. It is completely 
commanded by Acre, so that the possessor of that port is 
the lord of one of the richest territories in the Holy 
Land. To the south of Galilee lies the district of an- 
cient Samaria, now chiefly included in the district of 
Nablous; it is mountainous, but well cultivated, and 
forms at present the most flourishing part of the Holy 
Land. Judea Proper comprises the territory extending 
from the Dead Sea to the Mediterranean, and is com- 
posed of a range of limestone hills, rising by stages from 
the level of the coast, and becoming more rugged and 
rocky as you approach Jerusalem from Jaffa. Between 
Jaffa and Gaza, westward of the mountains of Judea, 
lies the tract distinguished as the plain of the Mediter- 
ranean Sea, the ancient territory of the Philistines, in- 
cluding the five cities of Gaza, Askelon, Ashdod, Gath, 
and Ekron. This district still bears the name of Phal- 
astin, and forms a separate pashalic; it may be distin- 
guished as Palestine Proper. 

CoNDER — Modern Traveller, 



HYMN OF THE HEBREW MAID. 

When Israel, of the Lord beloved, 
Out from the land of bondage came, 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 147 

Her father's God before her moved, 

An awful guide, in smoke and flame. 
By day along the astonish'd lands 

The cloudy pillar glided slow ; 
By night Arabia's crimson 'd sands 

Retum'd the fiery pillar's glow. 

There rose the choral hymn of praise, 

And trump and timbrel answer'd keen ; 
And Zion's daughters pour'd their lays, 

With priests' and warriors' voice between. 
No portents now our foes amaze. 

Forsaken Israel wanders lone ; 
Our fathers would not know Thy ways. 

And Thou hast left them to their own. 

But present still, though now unseen ! 

When brightly shines the prosperous day, 
Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen 

To temper the deceitful ray. 
And oh ! when stoops on Judah's path. 

In shade and storm, the frequent night, 
Be Thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath, 

A burning and a shining light. 

Our harps we left by Babel's streams, 

The tyrant's jest, the Gentile's scorn ; 
No censer round our altar beams. 

And mute are timbrel, trump, and horn. 
But Thou hast said, — '' The blood of goat, 

The flesh of rams, I will not prize ; 
A contrite heart, an humble thought. 

Are mine accepted sacrifice." 

Sir Walter Scott. 



CAPILLARY ATTRACTION. 

It is the general rule, that no liquid can of itself rise 
higher in the inside of a tube than it stands on the outside ; 
but there is an exception to this rule which requires to 
be explained. 

If a drop of water, or any liquid of a like degree of 
fluidity, be pressed upon a solid surface, it wiU wet that 



] 48 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

surface and stick to it, instead of keeping together, and 
running off when the surface is held sloping. This shows 
that the parts of the liquid are more attracted by the 
parts of the solid than by one another. In the same 
manner, if you observe the edge of any liquid in a vessel, 
as wine in a glass, and note where it touches the glass, 
you will see that it is not quite level close to the glass, 
but becomes somewhat hollow, and is raised up on it, so 
as to stand a little higher at the edge than in the middle 
and other parts of its surface. It appears, therefore, 
that there is an attraction, at very small distances from 
the edge, sufficient to suspend the part of the fluid near 
it, and prevent it from sinking to the level of the rest. 
Suppose the wine-glass to be diminished, so as to leave 
no room for any of the wine in the middle which lies 
flat and level, but only to leave room for the small rim of 
liquor raised up all round on the side of the glass, — in 
other words, suppose a very small tube, placed with its 
lower end just so as to touch the liquor ; it is evident 
that the liquor will stand up somewhat higher in the tube 
than on the outside; and if the tube be made smaller 
and smaller, the liquor will rise higher, there being always 
less weight of liquid to counterbalance the attraction of 
the glass. 

Tubes of this very small bore are called capillary^ from 
a Latin word signifying hair^ because they are small, like 
hairs. Generally, any tube of less than l-20th of an 
inch diameter in the inside is a capillary tube; and if 
it is placed so as to touch the surface of water, the water 
will rise in it to a height which is greater the smaller the 
bore of the tube is. If the diameter of the tube is l-50th 
part of an inch, the water will rise to the height of one 
inch; if it be 1 -100th, the water will rise two inches; 
if 1 -200th, the water will rise four inches, and so on in 
proportion as the bore is lessened. The action of the 
tubes upon liquids depends, however, it must be recol- 
lected, upon the nature of the solid substances of which 
they are made. If the glass is smeared with grease so 
that the water will not stick to it, that liquid will not 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 149 

rise at all. So, diflferent liquids rise to different heights 
in the same tube, but not according to their specific grav- 
ity. Mercury does not rise at all; on the contrary, it 
sinks considerably lower than its level outside the tube. 

Capillary attraction performs many important offices 
in nature. Probably the distribution of moisture in the 
earth is regulated by it ; and there is no doubt that the 
distribution of the juices in plants depends principally 
upon it. The rise of the sap and its circulation is per- 
formed in the fine capillary tubes of the wood and bark, 
which are the arteries and veins of vegetables. Any one 
may perceive how this process is performed, by twisting 
together several threads of cotton or worsted, and wetting 
them. If they are then put in a glass of any coloured 
fluid, as red wine or ink, and allowed to hang down to 
the plate on which the glass stands, the fluid will soon 
be perceived to creep up, and colour the whole of the 
threads, red or black, as the case may be ; and in a short 
time the whole contents of the glass will come over into 
the plate. Capillary tubes may in this manner carry 
juices upwards, and distribute them through plants. The 
juice, it is true, cannot be so carried from a lower to a 
higher level in a capillary tube, and flow out from the 
top; but it may be carried upwards in one, and then 
flow horizontally into others ; and from these it may be 
carried upwards again in a third set of tubes ; or it may 
be carried in any direction by capillary syphons. Spongy 
bodies act in all probability on liquids in the same man- 
ner, by means of a great number of extremely small 
capillary tubes, of which their substance is entirely com- 
posed. Library of Useful Knowledge. 



THE TEMPLE OF FAME. 

The Temple shakes, the sounding gates unfold, 
Wide vaults appear, and roofs of fretted gold, 
Raised on a thousand pHlars wreath'd around 
With laurel-foliage and with eagles crown' d ; 
Of bright transparent beryl were the walls, 
The friezes gold, and gold the capitals : 



150 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

As heaven with stars, the roof with jewels glows, 

And ever-living lamps depend in rows. 

Full in the passage of each spacious gate 

The sage historians in white garments wait : 

Graved o'er their seats^ the form of Time was found, 

His scythe reversed, and both his pinions bound. 

Within stood heroes, who through loud alarms 

In bloody fields pursued renown in arms. 

High on a throne, with trophies charged, I view'd 

The youth that all things but himself subdued ; 

His feet on sceptres and tiaras trod. 

And his horn'd head belied the Libyan god. 

There Csesar, graced with both Minervas, shone; 

Caesar, the world's great master, and his own ; 

Unmoved, superior still in every state. 

And scarce detested in his country's fate. 

But chief were those, who not for empire fought, 

But with their toils their people's safety bought : 

High o'er the rest Epaminondas stood : 

Timoleon, glorious in his brother's blood : 

Bold Scipio, saviour of the Roman state. 

Great in his triumphs, in retirement great ; 

And wise Aurelius, in whose well-taught mind 

With boundless power unbounded virtue join' d. 

His own strict judge, and patron of mankind. 

Much- suffering heroes next their honours claim, 
Those of less noisy and less guilty fame, 
Fair Virtue's silent train : supreme of these 
Here ever shines the godlike Socrates ; 
' He whom ungrateful Athens could expel, 
At all times just but when she sign'd the shell: 
Here his abode the martyr'd Phocion claims, 
With Agis, not the last of Spartan names : 
Unconquer'd Cato shows the wound he tore, 
And Brutus his ill Genius meets no more. 

But in the centre of the hallow'd choir, 
Six pompous columns o'er tlie rest aspire ; 
Around the shrine itself of Fame they stand. 
Hold the chief honours, and the Fane command. 
High on the first the mighty Homer shone ; 
Eternal adamant composed his throne ; 
Father of verse ! in holy fillets drest. 
His silver beard waved gently o'er his breast : 



SECT. lY. A COURSE OF READING. 151 

Though blhicl, a boldness in his looks appears ; 
In years he seem'd, but not impaired by years. 
The wars of Troy were round the pillar seen : 
Here fierce Tydides wounds tlie Cyprian Queen; 
Here Hector glorious from Patroclus' fall, 
Here dragg'd in triumph round the Trojan wall. 
Motion and life did every part inspire, 
Bold was the work, and proved the master's fii-e. 
A strong expression most he seem'd to affect, 
And here and there disclosed a brave neglect. 

A golden column next in rank appear'd, 
On w^iich a shrine of purest gold was rear'd; 
Finish'd the whole, and labour'd every part, 
With patient touches of unwearied art : 
The Mantuan there in sober triumph sate, 
Composed his posture, and his look sedate : 
On Homer still he fix'd a reverent eye. 
Great without pride, in modest majesty. 
In living sculpture on the sides were spread 
The Latian wars, and haughty Turnus dead : 
Elissa stretch'd upon the funeral pyre, 
-^neas bending with his aged sii'e : 
Troy flamed in burning gold, and o'er the throne 
A7ins and the Man in golden ciphers shone. 

Four swans sustain a car of silver bright, 
With heads advanced, and pinions stretch'd for flight 
Here, like some furious prophet, Pindar rode. 
And seem'd to labour with the inspiring God. 
Across the harp a careless hand he flings, 
And boldly sinks into the sounding strings. 
The figured games of Greece the column grace. 
Neptune and Jove survey the rapid race. 
The youths hang o'er their chariots as they run; 
The fiery steeds seem starting from the stone : 
The champions in distorted postm-e threat ; 
And all appear'd irregularly great. 

Here happy Horace tuned the Ausonian lyre 
To sweeter sounds, and temper'd Pindar's fii'e ; 
Pleased with Alcaeus' manly rage to infuse 
The softer spirit of the Sapphic Muse. 
The polish'd pillar different sculptures grace ; 
A work outlasting monumental brass. 



1 52 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

Here smiling Loves and Bacchanals appear, 
The Julian star, and great Augustus here : 
The Doves, that round the infant Poet spread 
Myrtles and bays, hang hovering o'er his head. 

Here, in a shrine that cast a dazzling light, 
Sate, fix'd in thought, the mighty Stagyrite : 
His sacred head a radiant zodiac crown'd, 
And various animals his sides surround : 
His piercing eyes, erect, appear to view 
Superior worlds, and look all Nature through. 

With equal rays immortal Tully shone ; 
The Roman rostra decked the Consul's throne : 
Gathermg his flowing robe, he seem'd to stand 
In act to speak, and graceful stretch'd his hand. 
Behind, Rome's Genius waits with civic crowns, 
And the great Father of his country owns. 

These massy columns in a circle rise, 
O'er which a pompous dome invades the skies : 
Scarce to the top I stretch'd my aching sight, 
So large it spread, and swell'd to such a height. 
Full in the midst proud Fame's imperial seat 
With jewels blazed magnificently great : 
The vivid emeralds there revive the eye, 
The flaming rubies show their sanguine dye, 
Bright azure rays from lively sapphires stream. 
And lucid amber casts a golden gleam, 
With various- colour'd light the pavement shone, 
And all on Are appear'd the glowing throne ; 
The dome's high arch reflects the mingled blaze, 
And forms a rainbow of alternate rays. 
When on the goddess first I cast my sight, 
Scarce seem'd her stature of a cubit's height ; 
But swell'd to larger size the more I gazed. 
Till to the roof her towering front she raised ; 
With her the temple every moment grew. 
And ampler vistas open'd to my view : 
Upward the columns shoot, the roofs ascend. 
And arches widen, and long aisles extend, 
Such was her form, as ancient Bards have told, 
Wings raise her arms, and wings her feet infold ; 
A thousand busy tongues the Goddess bears, 
A thousand open eyes, a thousand listening ears. 



3ECT. lY, A COURSE OF READING. 163 

Beneath, in order ranged, the tuneful Nine 

(Her virgin handmaids) still attend the shrine : 

With eyes on Fame for ever fix'd, they sing : 

For fame they raise their voice, and tune their string : 

With Time's first birth began the heavenly lays, 

And last eternal through the length of days. Pope. 



A CHANGE OF CHARACTER AS NECESSARY AS A CHANGE 
OF STATE. 

The Scriptures unequivocally declare, that all mankind 
have lost both the favour and the moral image of God. 
By this loss of his favour v^e are all legally excluded from 
his family, and consequently can have no interest in its 
privileges. Since this loss has been incurred by guilt, it 
is necessary to its removal that our sins be pardoned, 
and our persons accepted as righteous. This is a change 
of state. But, as we havo lost the image of God as well 
as his favour, it is also necessary to our salvation that we 
be conformed to the Divine character by a change of mind. 
Could we suppose a sinner to be pardoned, and admitted 
into the family of God, while no change was eflPected on his 
character, he could derive scarcely any benefit from his par- 
don, because he could have no relish for the holy and spir- 
itual services and enjoyments of the house of God. Were 
he even admitted into heaven, its hallowed society and its 
sacred glories would to him be intolerable ; for happiness 
does not result from situation, but from an agreement 
between faculties and objects, desires and enjoyments. 
No change can take place in the Divine mind, and, of 
course, a change must take place in ours ; for happiness 
cannot be enjoyed while our desires and pleasures, our 
habits, principles, and pursuits, are all opposed to the 
character and will of God, and to the exercises and en- 
joyments of his temple. Were a prince to elevate a slave 
to a station of eminence, while all the habits of a state of 
slavery remained, this change of condition, without a 
change of views, feelings,^ and dispositions, would embar- 
rass and encumber. There is a suitableness between 
circumstances and character which is essential to ease and 



154 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

enjoyment ; and it is the glory of the Gospel, that, while 
it elevates to the family of God, it implants and cherishes 
a spirit becoming it. 

This subject will be better illustrated by considering 
man as diseased as well as condemned, in both which 
lights he is represented in Scripture. Should a man be 
imprisoned and condemned to death for a breach of the 
laws, and should he, while in this state, be seized with 
the jail-fever to such a degree as to ensure his death by 
the disease, independently of a public execution accord- 
ing to his sentence, and were he in this state to receive 
a pardon from his prince, of what use would it be to him ? 
His prison- doors are set open, but the diseased man can- 
not leave prison ; his life is spared by his prince, but it 
falls a victim to his disorder, — a disorder, too, occasioned 
by his crime. But if his prince, at the time he pardoned 
him, could rebuke his disorder, and restore him to health, 
then, and only then, could the benefit of the pardon be 
enjoyed. The same is the case with mankind. We are 
under a judicial sentence of condemnation ; but we are 
at the same time under the power of the disease of sin ; 
we are depraved in heart, alienated from God, hostile to 
his true character and will, and utterly averse from the 
holy and spiritual blessings and pleasures of his family. 
Though we cannot but seek happiness, we naturally seek 
it not in God, but in the creature. The favour of God 
in his true character is not the object of desire; the 
thought of immediate fellowship with him rather pains 
than attracts us ; and a life beyond the grave, in a state 
of separation from the objects of sense, is considered the 
ruin of our happiness rather than its perfection. This 
temper of heart, as well as the dread consequent on a 
sense of guilt, causes us to shun all serious thoughts of 
death and of eternity. 

If, then, we are not delivered from this moral malady, 
of what use could forgiveness be to us ? We should still 
be miserable; for sin and wretchedness are inseparable, 
being in the very nature of things connected together by 
a law as steady and invariable as that which regulates the 



SECT. IV. JL COURSE OP READING. 155 

planets. The misery consequent upon sin does not arise 
from the arbitrary frown of Heaven, or from the positive 
infliction of superior power. When the divine law de- 
nounces the infliction of punishment, it declares what 
will in the very nature of things be the effect of sin to 
the transgressor, — ^it adds its sanction to the constitution 
of nature. Heaven and Hell are, so to say, the names 
of opposite characters ; the former of which is connected 
with happy elBfects and consequences, and the latter with 
all that is wretched and miserable. Till spiritual health, 
therefore, is restored, or, in other words, till we are con- 
formed to the character of God, we cannot be happy. 
Even the Almighty, with reverence be it said, cannot 
otherwise make us truly happy. Hence our Lord has 
said, " Except a man be born of water, even of the Spirit, 
he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.'' He does not 
ascribe this to the mere will of God, but traces it to the 
very nature of things. He does not say he shall not 
enter, but ^^ he cannot enter into the kingdom of God ; " 
and this is true in relation to this life as well as to that 
which is to come. 

Sin, then, is the disease and the bane of our souls ; 
and, be where w^e may, we cannot be happy if its poison 
is left to rage in our hearts. To complete our salvation, 
the Redeemer therefore died, not only to expiate our 
guilt, but to sanctify and cleanse us by the washing of 
regeneration, even the renewing of the Holy Ghost, that 
he might present us to himself a glorious church, not 
having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that we 
should be holy and without blemish. These two bless- 
ings, restoration to the family of God and restoration to 
spiritual health, though in themselves distinct, are com- 
municated together. The former is obtained by the 
death of Christ, as a medium of forgiveness every way 
worthy of God ; the latter is obtained by the knowledge 
of this fact, and of the truths illustrated by the revela- 
tion of it. ^ Russell. 



156 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 



Springs, — Springs are so many little reservoirs, which 
receive their waters from the neighbouring ground through 
small lateral canals, and which discharge their excess 
either by overflowing or in some other manner. The ori- 
gin of springs cannot be referred to one exclusive cause ; 
Nature, simple in her general laws, avails herself of a 
great variety of means ; thus, the precipitation of atmos- 
pheric vapours, the dissolving of ice, the filtering of sea- 
waters, and the explosion of subterraneous vapours, prob- 
ably all concur in the formation of springs. The opinion 
of the ancients, which attributed the origin of springs to 
the filtration of the waters of the sea, is not a mere theory. 
It is true that all running waters have their sources far 
above the level of the sea. But the phenomena of capil- 
lary tubes may obtain in the interior of the earth. The 
sea- waters, deprived of their salt and bitter elements, may 
ascend through the imperceptible pores of several rocks, 
from which, being disengaged by heat, they may form 
those subterraneous vapours to which many springs owe 
their origin. We may here quote the example of the 
Chartreux, who, seeing their springs dried up, and learn- 
ing that thick vapours were observed to ascend from a 
neighbouring quarry newly opened, bought the quarry, 
closed it up, and beheld their springs reappear. To rains, 
dews, and other aqueous vapours, however, the principal 
share is assigned in producing running waters; and, in 
order to be convinced that this is the case, we have only 
to consider Apulia and other peninsulas, which are almost 
destitute of running water, simply because their moun- 
tains do not constitute a mass sufficient, either from its 
elevation or its bulk, to attract and retain the aqueous 
vapours of the atmosphere. On the principle, that it is 
from the sea the atmosphere exhales its water in the gas- 
eous form, it is easy to explain why the interior of many 
great continents, such as Africa and Asia, contain such 
barren deserts. — {See Illustrations^ Fig. 15.) 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 157 

Rivers, — As water naturally falls to the lowest level 
which it can reach, all the rain which is poured down on 
the earth, and which the earth cannot absorb, is collected 
in streams, which run down its surface, and, joining each 
other in their course, are formed into mighty rivers, 
which finally mingle with the ocean. The rapidity of a 
river depends on the declivity of its bed. Thus, in the 
commencement of their course from the high grounds, 
rivers rush down with all the fury of torrents ; and when 
they are swelled by the rains, or by the melting of the 
mountain- snows, they come down in irresistible majesty, 
roaring and foaming between the high and perpendicular 
banks within which they are contained, till they break 
out of their steep and rugged prison, and spread their 
placid waters over the plains. The origin and pro- 
gress of rivers has been fancifully compared by Pliny 
to the life of man : "Its beginnings are insignifi- 
cant and its infancy is frivolous ; it plays among the 
flowers of a meadow ; it waters a garden or turns a little 
mill. Gathering strength in its youth, it becomes wild 
and impetuous. Impatient of the restraints which it still 
meets with in the hollows among the mountains, it is 
restless and fretful; quick in its turning, and unsteady 
in its course. Now it is a roaring cataract, tearing up 
and overturning whatever opposes its progress, and it 
shoots headlong down from a rock; then it becomes a 
sullen and gloomy pool, buried in the bottom of a glen. 
Recovering breath by repose, it again dashes along, till, 
tired of uproar and mischief, it quits all that it has swept 
along, and leaves the opening of the valley strewed with 
the rejected waste. Now, quitting its retirement, it comes 
abroad into the world, journeying with more prudence 
and discretion through cultivated fields, yielding to cir- 
cumstances, and winding round what would trouble it to 
overwhelm or remove. It passes through the populous 
cities, and all the busy haunts of man, tendering its ser- 
vices on every side, and becomes the support and orna- 
ment of the country. Increased by numerous alliances, 
and advanced in its course, it becomes grave and stately 



158 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. IT. 

in its motions, loves peace and quiet; and in majestic 
silence rolls on its mighty waters till it is laid to rest in 
the vast abyss." 

Rivers, which descend from primitive mountains into 
the secondary lands, often form cascades and cataracts. 
Such are the cataracts of the Nile, of the Ganges, and 
some other great rivers. The most picturesque falls are 
those of rapid rivers bordered by trees and precipitous 
rocks. Sometimes we see a body of water, before it ar- 
rives at the bottom, broken and dissipated into showers, 
like the Staubbach ; sometimes it forms a watery arch, 
projected from a rampart of rock, under which the trav- 
eller may pass dry-shod, as the " falling spring " of Vir- 
ginia^ in one place, in a granitic district, we see it, as in 
the Khine not far from its source, urge on its foaming 
billows amongst the pointed rocks; in another, amidst 
lands of calcareous formation, we see it, as in the Czet- 
tina, roUing down from terrace to terrace, and presenting 
sometimes a sheet and sometimes a wall of water. Some 
magnificent cascades have been formed, at least in part, 
by the hands of man; as the cascade of Velino, near 
Terni, which has been attributed to Pope Clement VIII. 
The elevation of cataracts has generally been exagger- 
ated ; one of the highest, that of Staubbach, instead of 
being 1100 as stated by some travellers, is only 900 feet 
according to trigonometrical measurement. 

It is reckoned, that in the old continent there are 
about 430 rivers which fall directly into the sea ; while 
in the new continent there are at least 145 of the same 
description. The largest river in Europe is the Wolga, 
which falls into the Caspian Sea, after having run a 
course of 2200 miles ; the largest in Asia is the Kiang- 
ku in China, whose course is 3200 miles; the largest in 
Africa is the Nile, which is supposed to run 3000 miles ; 
and the largest in America is the Amazon, which, after 
a course of nearly 4000 miles, falls into the Atlantic with 
a body of water 180 miles in breadth. It is calculated 
that the rivers of the globe supply the ocean with at 
least 13,630 cubical miles of water in a year; and thatj 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 159 

were the ocean completely drained of its waters, it would 
require twenty- one thousand years before its caverns could 
be again completely filled by tbem. 



Lakes » — Lakes are accumulations of water surrounded 
on all sides by tbe land, and having no direct communi- 
cation with the sea. They are divided into, 1. Such as 
neither receive nor give out rivers ; 2. Such as give out 
rivers without receiving any ; 3. Such as receive without 
giving out rivers ; and 4. Such as both receive and give 
out rivers. Of the first kind, some are temporary, and 
depend on the fall of rain or the melting of snow for the 
supply of their waters ; and others are perennial, and, re- 
ceiving no supply of water from rivers, are supposed to 
derive it from springs at the bottom. Of the second de- 
scription of lakes, the supply from springs is supposed to 
exceed the waste by evaporation, and the redundant 
quantity flows off by rivers. In the third kind of lakes, 
the water received by rivers must either be equal to the 
quantity carried off by evaporation, or the superabundant 
waters must have some subterraneous outlet. In such 
as receive and give out rivers, the quantity of water ad- 
mitted, and what is carried off, are supposed nearly to 
balance each other. Some lakes or inland seas contain 
fresh water, and in others it is salt or brackish. Those 
which give rise to rivers, or are formed in the course of 
rivers, are fresh ; but such as receive rivers, and have no 
visible outlet, contain salt water. Lake Ladoga, in Rus- 
sia, one of the largest lakes in Europe, is 130 miles long 
and 75 miles broad, is full of shifting quicksands, and, 
like many other inland seas, is much exposed to storms. 
Baikal, in Siberia, is 366 miles in length, and 25 in 
breadth; it is remarkable for the transparency of its 
waters, and at certain seasons is also subject to dread- 
ful storms. The Caspian Sea, which receives rivers, • 
and has no visible outlet, is a collection of salt water. 
It is 750 miles long and^263 miles broad; numerous 
gulfs and islands are distributed along its eastern shore ; 
in the middle it is said to be 500 fathoms deep ; and, 



160 A COURSE OF READING* SECT. IV. 

being surrounded with very high land, it is also ex- 
posed to severe storms. The Caspian is 83 feet below 
the level of the Mediterranean. Lake Aral, to the 
eastward, is 150 miles long and 60 broad; is similar 
in its character to the Caspian; the water is salt; and 
extensive fisheries, particularly of the sturgeon and seal, 
are established on both lakes. But the lakes of the 
old world are far exceeded by the magnificent collec- 
tions of fresh water in North America. Lake Supe- 
rior, so called from being the largest on the continent, is 
1500 miles in circumference, is supplied by more than 
30 rivers, some of which are of considerable magnitude, 
and discharges its waters into Lake Huron, which is 1000 
miles in circumference. Lake Huron communicates with 
Lake Michigan, which is also a large lake, and with Lake 
Erie, which is 231 miles in length and 70 in breadth; 
and between Lake Eric and Lake Ontario, which latter 
is 600 miles in circumference, are the celebrated falls of 
Niagara, where a large body of water is precipitated from 
140 to 160 feet of perpendicular height. 



THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP. 

What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells, 
Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious Main ? 
— Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow- colour' d shells, 
Bright things which gleam unreck'd of, and in vain. 
— Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy Sea I 
We ask not such from thee. 

Yet more, the Depths have more ! What wealth untold 
Far down, and shining through their stillness lies ! 
Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold. 
Won from ten thousand royal Argosies. 
— Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful Main ! 
Earth claims not these again ! 

Yet more, the Depths have more ! Thy waves have rolPd 
Above the cities of a world gone by ! 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 161 

Sand hath fill'd up the palaces of old, 
Sea- weed o'ergrown the halls of revehy ! 
— Dash o'er them, Ocean ! in thy scornful play — 
Man yields them to decay ! 

Yet more ! the Billows and the Depths have more ! 
High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast ! 
They hear not now the booming waters roar, 
The battle-thunders will not break their rest, 
— ^Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave — 
Give back the true and brave ! 

Gixe back the lost and lovely ! those for whom 
The place was kept at board and hearth so long, 
The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom, - 
And the vain yearning woke 'midst festal song ! 
Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrown, — 
But all is not thine own ! 

To thee the love of woman hath gone down. 
Dark flow thy tides o'er manhood's noble head, 
O'er youth's bright locks and beauty's flowery crown ; 
— Yet must thou hear a voice — Restore the Dead ! 
Earth shall reclaim her precious things fi'om thee — 
Restore the Dead, thou Sea ! 

Mrs Hemans. 



THE CATAEACT OF YELINO. 

The roar of waters ! — from the headlong height 
Velino cleaves the wave- worn precipice : 
The fall of waters ! rapid as the light 
The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss : 
The hell of waters ! where they howl and hiss, 
And boil in endless torture ; while the sweat 
Of their great agony, wrung out from this 
Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet 
That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set. 

And mounts in spray the skies, and thence again 
Returns in an unceasing ^hower, which round. 
With its unemptied cloud of gentle rain, 
Is an eternal April to the ground, 
Making it all one emerald : — how profound 

h2 



162 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

The gulf ! and how the giant element 
From rock to rock leaps with delirious bound, 
Crushing the cliffs, which, downward worn and rent 
With his fierce footsteps, yield in chasms a fearful yent 

To the broad column which rolls on, and shows 
More like the fountain of an infant sea, 
Tom from the womb of mountains by the throes 
Of a new world, than only thus to be 
Parent of rivers which flow gushingly. 
With many windings, through the vale : — Look back ! 
Lo ! where it comes like an eternity, 
As if to sweep down all things in its track. 
Charming the eye with dread, — a matchless cataract ! 

Horribly beautiful ! but on the verge. 

From side to side beneath the glittering morn, 

An iris sits, amidst the infernal surge. 

Like Hope upon a deathbed, and, imwom 

Its steady dyes, while all around is torn 

By the distracted waters, bears serene 

Its brilliant hues, with all their beams unshorn : 

Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene. 

Love watching Madness with imalterable mien. 

Byron. 



DAILY REVOLUTION OF THE CELESTIAL SPHERE. 

Suppose yourself placed in the middle of a great plain, 
or on the top of a high mountain or tower, where nothing 
interrupts your view ; the heavens will then appear like a 
great hemispherical vault above your head, supported by 
a circular plain, in the centre of which you are placed. 
The circle which forms the boundary between the heav- 
ens and the earth is called the horizon; the point 
directly over your head is called the zenith; and the 
distance from the horizon to the zenith is 90°, being the 
fourth part of the whole circle of the heavens, which is 
360**. Only one-half of the heavens is visible ; the other 
is below the horizon. You are not, therefore, to expect 
to see all the stars and constellations at once ; but only 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 163 

that half of them which, at the time of observation, is 
above the horizon. 

Placed in the situation supposed, you may prepare to 
examine the face of the sky, after the light of day has 
disappeared, with a view to ascertain the apparent mo- 
tions of the heavenly bodies. The hemispherical vault 
will appear studded with an immense number of lumi- 
nous points or stars. Those that emit a twinkling light, 
— which constitute by far the most numerous class, — are 
called ^a?e^ stars ; and those that emit a steady light, — of 
which only three or four are visible to the naked eye, — 
are called planets. If you continue your observations for 
some time, you will find, that, though the fixed stars 
preserve their distances from each other, they are contin- 
ually changing their position with respect to the hori- 
zon. Some of them are rising in the east, and others 
setting in the west. All seem to describe circles in the 
heavens ; and all appear to move from east to west. Some, 
like the sun in winter, rise far south, skim for a few 
hours the edge of the horizon, and then set. Others, 
like the sun in spring, rise in the east, traverse the middle 
of the sky, and set in the west; while others, like the 
sun at midsummer, rise considerably to the north of the 
east point, perform a larger circuit through the sky, and 
set in the north-west. A fourth class, like the sim in 
the arctic regions, move continually round in the heav- 
ens without setting. This last class are always found 
in the northern regions of the sky ; and, by tracing care- 
fully their dififerent orbits, you will find, that the circles 
described by each star gradually become smaller and 
smaller, till at last you arrive at a star which seems to 
be at rest, and which appears to be the point (or near the 
point) around which they all move. This is called the 
pole-star, and nearly coincides with the point at which 
the axis of the earth would terminate were it produced to 
the heavens.* 



* All this may be illustrated by a celestial globe, by merely turn- 
ing it round from east to west, provided it is rectified for the latitude ; 



164 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

The planets also appear to move across the heavens 
every night, and consequently round the earth in a day ; 
but there are many peculiarities in regard to their motions, 
which can only be discovered after a series of observa- 
tions on successive evenings for a considerable period 
of time, and which n«ed not be described in this stage of 
your knowledge. The same remarks apply to the moon, 
and also to the sum 

Now, what is the cause of this apparent diurnal rev- 
olution of all the celestial bodies? Do they actually 
revolve around the earth once every 24 hours, as they 
appear to do; or is their motion only apparent, the ap- 
pearance being caused by the motion of the earth round 
itself in an opposite direction in the same period ? Let 
us attempt to answer the question. 

You have often, when in motion, had a momentary be- 
lief that objects which you knew to be stationary were 
moving, and you yourself at rest ; for instance, in looking 
heedlessly out of the window of a carriage moving gently 
along the road, you have imagined that not the carriage 
but the trees and houses were moving. But you were in 
this case enabled instantly to undeceive yourself by com- 
paring the objects apparently in motion with others known 
to be at rest. A case, however, may be imagined, where 
it would be impossible for you to determine which of two 
bodies was at rest and which in motion. Suppose your- 
self looking, in a dark night, from the cabin- window of a 
ship, upon a light apparently in motion,- — it would be im- 
possible for you, in this case, to determine which was the 
moving body. The change of place in the light might 
arise either from its being really in motion, as in the 
event of another ship passing by, while your ship was at 
anchor, or the light might be on shore, and the apparent 
motion occasioned by your ship swinging round its an- 
chor, or proceeding on its voyage. But in your situation, 



for it is to be observed that the extent of circuit performed by any star, 
and the inclination of its circle to the horizon, depend upon the latitude 
of the place from which the observation is made. 



SECT. IV. A COURSE OF READING. 165 

having no intervening objects, whose place was known, 
with which to compare the light, you could come to no 
satisfactory conclusion as to the cause of its apparent 
change of place. Now, this is precisely the situation in 
which wc stand with respect to the heavenly bodies. As 
far as appearances enable us to judge, it makes no differ- 
ence whether the earth is at rest, and the heavens carried 
round it in 24 hours, or whether the heavens are at rest, 
and the earth carried round itself in the same time. 

The question, therefore, resolves itself into this, — 
Which view of the matter is the more plausible, and at- 
tended with the fewest difficulties ? 

1. If we suppose the earth to revolve on its axis, the 
apparent daily revolution of the celestial sphere is effected 
by a motion comparatively moderate ; whereas, if the 
whole heavens actually revolve, the motions necessary 
for accomplishing this must exceed all calculation. The 
earth's circumference, or the space through which every 
point of the equator must pass in 24 hours (supposing 
the rotation of the earth), measures 25,000 miles — wliich 
will produce a motion of 1 000 miles per hour, or 500 yards 
per second, — a velocity nearly equal to that of a cannon- 
ball. This velocity undoubtedly is considerable ; but it 
is totally insignificant when compared with the veloci- 
ties required on the other supposition. The distance of 
the sun from the earth is about 95 millions of miles; 
if that luminary therefore revolves round the earth in 
24 hours, he must move at the rate of nearly 25 millions 
of miles per hour, which is more than 20,000 times 
quicker than the motion of a cannon-ball. The planet 
Herschel is 20 times farther distant from us than the 
sun, and consequently the velocity of his daily motion 
must be 20 times greater. But these instances, though 
sufficiently startling, are nothing, when compared with 
the rapidity with which the fixed stars must move to ac- 
complish a revolution in 24 hours. The distance of the 
nearest of these suns (for suns they are proved to be) is 
at least 20,000,000,000,000 miles,— a space which would 
require a motion considerably greater than a thousand 
millions of miles in a second, to enable a body to pass 



166 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. IV. 

over it in 24 hours. This certainly is a velocity far be- 
yond what we are accustomed to conceive; and yet the 
velocity of the majority of the fixed stars must be infi- 
nitely greater than this. If you consider, therefore, the 
simplicity of the means employed, and the saving of 
labour effected by the rotation of the earth on its axis, 
instead of the revolution of the whole heavens, you cannot 
fail to conclude the former to be the true theory of the 
celestial motions. 

2. This conclusion must appear stUl more obvious, if 
you attend to the bulks of these difierent bodies. Of the 
planets, three are found greatly to exceed the earth in 
size — Jupiter being nearly 1500 times, Saturn 900 times, 
and Herschel 80 times larger. The sun is considerably 
more than a million times the size of the earth; and each 
of the fixed stars is probably as large as the sun. Such 
being the magnitude of these bodies, how inconsistent is 
it with every idea of order, and with all our notions of 
infinite wisdom, to suppose that such immeasurable masses 
are daily revolving round our comparatively insignificant 
globe! — [See Illustrations j Fig, 16.) 

But, 3. The most satisfactoiy proof of the earth's motion 
is derived from the form of the earth itself, and from cer- 
tain variations in the force of gravity, observed at differ- 
ent parts of its surface. It is found that a clock goes 
considerably slower at the equator than towards the poles, 
and that it is necessary to shorten the pendulum Jth of 
an inch to make the time correspond with that of Lon- 
don. How is this to be accounted for? It is not the 
heat of the climate, though this has the effect of lengthen- 
ing metallic pendulums; for at Quito, which is covered 
with snow, the retardation of the clock is the same as at 
Cayenne. Nor is it the diminution of gravity at the 
equator, which necessarily causes the pendulum to move 
more slowly (as the pendulum is an index of the force of 
gravity ;)* for, after allowance is made for this, there still 

* The earth has been determmed by actual measurement to be an 
oblate spheroid flattened towards the poles, and protuberant at the 
equator ; and the force of gravity decreases as we pass from the poles 
to the equator, its action being always from the centre of the oartb. 



SECT. V. A COURSE OP READING. 167 

remains a considerable retardation to be accounted for. 
It is the rotation of the earth alone that affords a com- 
plete solution of the difficulty. By revolving on its axis 
it acquires what is called a centrifugal force, which has 
the effect of diminishing the force of gravity at its surface. 
But the degree of rotation may be such as entirely to de- 
stroy the force of gravity, and even to sweep the waters 
from the earth^s surface, as we see the water fly off from 
a wet mop in twirling it round with the hand ; — or the 
motion may be so slow as scarcely to prevent the waters 
from quitting the elevated land at the equator, and flow- 
ing towards the lower land at the poles. It is a subject 
of calculation, therefore, to determine what degree of ro- 
tation is necessary to keep the waters uniformly spread 
out over the whole surface, and, at the same time, to pro- 
duce that degree of diminution in the action of gravity 
which is indicated by the retardation of the clock. Now 
the result of this calculation shows that a rotation of 
about 24 hours is precisely the degree of velocity requi- 
site for producing these effects. 



SECTION V. 



JERUSALEM. 

The modem city of Jerusalem may be roughly stated to 
be about a mile in length, and half a mile in breadth. 
Its population is estimated at 20,000, of which 5000 are 
Mussulmans, 5000 Christians, and 10,000 Jews. It 
stands at the south end of a large plain that extends 
northwards towards Samaria; but it immediately occu- 
pies two small hills, having valleys or ravines on the 
other three sides ; which, to the east and the south, are 
very deep. That on the east is the vaUey of Jehosha- 



168 A COURSE OF READINOi SECT. V. 

phat; that on the south is called the valley of Siloam 
and (erroneously) of Gehinnom ; that on the west, which 
is not so deep, the valley of Rephaim. On the east, Je- 
rusalem is commanded by the Mount of Olives ; on the 
south, by what the Christians absurdly denominate the 
Hill of Offence and the Hill of Evil Council ; on the 
west, by a low rocky flat, called Mount Gihon, which 
rises towards the north to a commanding elevation ; on 
the north-west, Seopo, where Titus encamped, is also 
higher ground than that on which Jerusalem stands : so 
that the Scripture representation of Jerusalem, as guarded 
by mountains^ literally answers to its topographical situa- 
tion : — ^* As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so 
the Lord is round about his people, from henceforth, even 
for ever/' — [See Illustrations , Fig, 17.) 

^' When seen,^' says Chateaubriand, '' from the Mount 
of Olives, Jerusalem presents an inclined plane, descend- 
ing from west to east. An embattled wall, fortified with 
towers and a Gothic castle, encompasses the city all 
round ; excluding, however, part of Mount Sion, which 
it formerly enclosed. In the western quarter, and in 
the centre of the city, the houses stand very close ; but 
in the eastern part, along the brook Kedron, you perceive 
vacant spaces ; among the rest, that which surrounds the 
mosque erected on the ruins of the temple. The houses 
of Jerusalem are heavy square masses, very low, without 
chimneys or windows : they have flat terraces or domes 
on the top, and look like prisons or sepulchres. The 
whole would appear to the eye one uninterrupted level, 
did not the steeples of the churches, the minarets of the 
mosques, the summits of a few cypresses, and the clumps 
of nopals, break the uniformity of the plan. On behold- 
ing these stone buildings, encompassed by a stony coun- 
try, you are ready to inquire if they are not the confused 
monuments of a cemetery in the midst of a desert. 

"Enter the city, but nothing will you there find to 
make amends for the dulness of its exterior. You lose 
yourself among narrow, unpaved streets, here going up 
hill, there down, and you walk among clouds of dust or 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING* 169 

loose stones. Canvass stretched from house to house in- 
creases the gloom of this labyrinth. A few paltry shops 
expose nothing but wretchedness to view, and even these 
are frequently shut, from apprehension of the passage of 
a cadi. Not a creature is to be seen in the streets, not a 
creature at the gates, except now and then a peasant 
gliding through the gloom, concealing under his garments 
the fruits of his labour, lest he should be robbed of his 
hard earnings by the rapacious soldier. Aside, in a cor- 
ner, the Arab butcher is slaughtering some animal, sus- 
pended by the legs from a wall in ruins ; from his hag- 
gard and ferocious look, and his bloody hands, you would 
suppose that he had been cutting the throat of a fellow- 
creature rather than killing a lamb. The only noise 
heard from time to time in the city is the galloping of 
the steed of the desert; it is the janissary who brings 
the head of the Bedouin, or who returns from plundering 
the unhappy Fellah." 

The Jerusalem of sacred history is no more. Not a 
vestige remains of the capital of David and Solomon ; 
not a monument of Jewish times is standing. The very 
course of the walls is changed, and the boundaries of the 
ancient city are become doubtful. The monks pretend 
to show the sites of the sacred places ; but neither Cal- 
vary, nor the Holy Sepulchre, much less the Dolorous 
Way, the House of Caiaphas, &c., have the slightest 
pretensions to even a probable identity with the real 
places to which the tradition refers. A few gardens 
still remain on the sloping base of Mount Zion, watered 
from the pool of Siloam; the gardens of Gethsemane are 
still in a sort of ruined cultivation ; the Mount of Olives 
still retains a languishing verdure, and nourishes a few of 
those trees from which it derives its name ; but all round 
about Jerusalem the general aspect is blighted and bar- 
ren; the grass is withered; the bare rock looks through 
the scanty sward ; and the grain itself, like the staring 
progeny of famine, seems in doubt whether to come to 
maturity or die in the ear. The vine that was brought 
from Egypt is cut off from the midst of the land ; the 



170 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V. 

vineyards are wasted ; the hedges are taken away ; and 
the graves of the ancient dead are open and tenantless. 

To conceive of its ancient aspect, we must endeavour 
to shut our eyes to the domes, and minarets, and castel- 
lated towers, which now revolt every pleasing and sacred 
association; we must forget the Turks, the Arabs, and 
the monks, and blot out from the picture the holy sep- 
ulchre, with all the horrible mummery connected with it. 
We must imagine ourselves looking down from Mount 
Olivet on a well peopled and strongly fortified city, 
occupying the oblong area of two sloping hills, about 
four miles in circumference, and sheltered on almost 
every side by more commanding elevations, cultivated in 
terraces, and clothed to their very summits with the 
olive, the fig-tree, and the palm. The city itself, if it 
could not boast of a Parthenon, was probably equal, in 
architectural decoration, to any one then standing in the 
world. It could not, indeed, compare with Babylon, or 
Nineveh, or the hundred -gated metropolis of Egypt, 
either in extent or magnificence ; but its two temples — 
the one built by Solomon, and the other repaired and 
completed by Herod — were successively the admiration 
of the world. Of the latter, Josephus has left us a de- 
scription, which, making every allowance for his national 
partiality, must be held to prove that it was every way 
worthy of the founder of Cesarea and Sebaste, and the 
other cities which attest the greatness of the Jewish mon- 
arch. The stupendous foundations on which the ter- 
race rested, at the height of 600 perpendicular feet from 
the valley, which was formed to extend the area of the 
temple, still remain to indicate the gigantic nature of the 
work. From the temple the city had the appearance of 
an amphitheatre, the slope of the hill being just sufficient 
to present it to the greatest advantage. At certain, dis- 
tances, towers of not less strength than architectural 
beauty broke the line of the walls; while, on the left, 
the acropolis of Zion overlooked the whole city. Modem 
Jerusalem, though now disfigured by intervals of waste 
ground and ruined heaps, still suggests the idea of **a 



SECT. V. A COURSE OP READING. 171 

compact city ; ^' but when every part was built upon, it 
must have peculiarly deserved this appellation. Its an- 
cient populousness we read of with surprise; its gates 
received an influx of strangers from all parts; and the 
wealth thus poured into it rendered it probably one of 
the richest cities in the world. If to these topographical 
and political advantages we add the local sanctity which 
dignified the scene of so many proud historical recollec- 
tions, and connect with the bulwarks, and palaces, and 
gardens of the metropolis of Judea, its consecrated char- 
acter as the peculiar abode of Deity — ^the chosen moun- 
tain of Jehovah — the " city of God," we shall obtain 
some idea of the aspect which it once presented, when 
the light of heaven, which nowhere comes with a purer 
ray, shone on a free and favoured people, and the voice 
of joy and thanksgiving was heard ascending from the 
dwellings of her citizens. 

CoNDER — Modern Traveller, 



JERUSALEM. 

Fallen is thy throne, Israel ! 

Silence is o'er thy plains ! 
Thy dwellings all He desolate, 

Thy children weep in chaiDS. 
Where are the dews that fed thee 

On Etham's barren shore ? 
That fire from heaven that led thee 

Now lights that path no more ! 

Lord, thou didst love Jerusalem ; 

Once she was all thine own : 
Her love thy fairest heritage, 

Her power thy glory's throne, 
Till evil came and bHghted 

Thy long-loved oHve-tree, 
And Salem's shrines were lighted 

For other gods than thee. 

Then sunk the star of Solyma, 
Then pass'd her glory's day, 



172 A COURSE OF READING, SECT. V. 

Like heath that in the wilderness 

The light wind whii'ls away. 
Silent and waste her bowers, 

Where once the mighty trod ; 
And sunk those guilty towers, 

Where Baal reign'd as God. 

" Go," said the Lord, " ye conquerors. 

Steep in her blood your swords, 
And raze to earth her battlements, 

For they are not the Lord's. 
Tell Zion's mournful daughter 

O'er kindred bones she'll tread, 
And Hinnom's vale of slaughter 

Shall hide but half her dead." 

But soon shall other pictured scenes 

In brighter vision rise, 
When Zion's sun shall sevenfold shine 

On all her mourners' eyes ; 
And on her mountains beauteous stand 

The messengers of peace ; 
" Salvation by the Lord's right hand ! " 

They shout and never cease. Moore. 



MECHANICAL PROPERTIES OF AIR. 

The principal of the aeriform fluids is the air we breathe, 
which surrounds the earth, and forms the atmosphere. 
The most essential and important of its mechanical prop- 
erties is its spring or elasticity ; that is to say, its power 
of increasing or diminishing in bulk, according as it is 
more or less compressed. As there is no attraction of 
cohesion between its particles, the expansive power of 
heat has no adversary to contend with but gravity ; any 
increase of temperature, therefore, expands it prodigiously, 
and a diminution proportionally condenses it. 

Gravity or weight is the other remarkable mechanical 
property of air; and its gravity is much greater than 
you may at first imagine. It is true that the particles of 
which it is composed are infinitely small, and particles 
infinitely small must be separately very light ; but, then, 



I 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 173 

reflect on the quantity of particles in the atmosphere. 
The atmosphere is thought to extend to about forty-five 
miles from the earth, and its gravity is such that a man 
of middling stature is computed to sustain, when the air. 
is heaviest, the weight of about fifteen tons. This 
weight would be insupportable were it not for the 
equality of the pressui'e on every part of the body ; but, 
when thus diffused, we can bear even a much greater 
weight, without any considerable inconvenience. In 
bathing, we support the pressure of the water in addition 
to that of the atmosphere ; but, because this pressure is 
equally distiibuted over the body, we are scarcely sen- 
sible of it ; whilst, if your shoulders, your head, or any 
particular part of your frame, were loaded with the 
additional weight of a hundred pounds, you would 
sink under the fatigue. Besides this, our bodies con- 
tain air, the spring of which counterbalances the weight 
of the external air, and renders us insensible to its 
pressure. The weight of the atmosphere, so far from 
being calculated to injure or incommode us, is in reality 
essential to our preservation; and if it were removed, 
the air within us, meeting with no external pressure 
to restrain its elasticity, would distend our bodies, 
burst the vessels that confine it, and put a period to our 
existence. 

The actual weight of air has been determined by ex- 
periment. A column of air reaching to the top of the 
atmosphere, whose base is a square inch, weighs 15 lbs. 
when the air is heaviest ; every square inch of our bodies, 
therefore, sustains a weight of 15 lbs., and the total 
weight of the atmosphere may be known by multiply- 
ing the number of square inches that there are on the 
surface of the globe by 15. It amounts to about 
5,000,000,000,000,000 tons. The instrument called a 
barometer^ which is used to indicate the state of the wea- 
ther, shows the weight of the atmosphere : its construc- 
tion is extremely simple. ^ You first fill a glass tube, 
about three feet in length and open only at one end, 
with mercury J then, stoppmg the open end with your 



174 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V. 

finger, you immerse it in a cup containing a little of the 
same fluid. Instead of all the mercury which is in the 
tube running down into the cup, as the law of the equili- 
brium of fluids would lead you to expect, you will find 
that only part of it does so, while the remainder remains 
in the tube, leaving a vacant space in the upper part of 
the tube. The explanation of this phenomenon is this : — 
The space in, the upper part of the tube which the mercury 
has left, is necessarily a perfect vacuum; and therefore 
the mercury in the tube is relieved from the pressure of 
the atmosphere, whilst that in the cup remains exposed to 
it. The pressure of the air on the mercury in the cup 
supports the mercury in the tube, and prevents it from 
falling. In other words, the column of mercury balances 
the column of atmospheric air, and the equilibrium of tlie 
mercury is destroyed only to preserve the general equili- 
brium of fluids. This simple apparatus is all that is 
essential to a barometer : the tube, and the cup or vase, 
are fixed on a board for the convenience of suspending it : 
the board is graduated for the purpose of ascertaining the 
height at which the mercury stands in the tube ; and a 
small movable metal plate is attached to show that height 
with greater accuracy. The mercury is in general sus- 
tained at the height of about 29 inches : but this height 
varies according to the weight of the atmosphere, which 
varies according to the state of the weather. The height 
is greatest in dry weather, when the pressure of the at- 
mosphere is the greatest ; and least in wet weather, when 
the pressure is the least. — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 18.) 

The pressure of the atmosphere explains a variety of 
common phenomena. "When we take a draught of water 
out of a basin, or a running stream, we immerse our 
mouths in the water, and by the effort which we make to 
draw in the water a partial vacuum is formed in the 
mouth ; the water then rises into it by the pressure of 
the atmosphere upon the surface of the external water. 
The same cause explains the action of a boy's sucker in 
lifting large stones — the rise of water in pumps — the ef- 
fects produced by cements — the firm adhesion of snails 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 175 

and periwinkles to rocks and stones — and the fact, that a 
cask will not run by the cock, unless a hole be opened in 
some other part of the cask. 



THE OLD PHILOSOPHER AND THE YOUNG LADY. 

" Alas ! " exclaimed a silver-headed sage, " how narrow 
is the utmost extent of human knowledge ! I have spent 
my life in acquiring knowledg^, but how little do I know ! 
The farther I attempt to penetrate the secrets of nature, 
the more I am bewildered and benighted. Beyond a 
certain limit all is but conjecture : so that the advantage 
of the learned over the ignorant consists greatly in having 
ascertained how little is to be known. 

^' It is true that I can measure the sun, and compute 
the distances of the planets ; I can calculate their periodi- 
cal movements, and even ascertain the laws by which 
they perform their sublime revolutions ; but with regard 
to their construction, to the beings that inhabit them, 
their condition and circumstances, what do I know more 
than the clown? — Delighting to examine the economy 
of nature in our own world, I have analyzed the elements, 
and given names to their component parts. And yet, 
should I not be as much at a loss to explain the burning 
of fire, or to account for the liquid quality of water, as 
the vulgar, who use and enjoy them without thought or 
examination? — I remark, that all bodies, unsupported, 
fall to the ground, and I am taught to account for this 
by the law of gravitation. But what have I gained here 
more than a term ? Does it convey to my mind any idea 
of the nature of that mysterious and invisible chain which 
draws all things to a common centre? — Pursuing the 
track of the naturalist, I have learned to distinguish the 
animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms, and 
to divide these into their distinct tribes and families; — 
but can I tell, after aU this toil, whence a single blade of 
grass derives its vitality ? ^ Could the most minute re- 
searches enable me to discover the exquisite pencil that 
paints the flower of the field? and have I ever detected 



176 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V. 

the secret that gives their brilliant dye to the ruby and 
the emerald, or the art that enamels the delicate shell? — 
I observe the sagacity of animals — I call it instinct, and 
speculate upon its various degrees of approximation to the 
reason of man; but, after all, I know as little of the 
cogitations of the brute as he does of mine. When I see 
a flight of birds overhead, performing their evolutions, or 
steering their course to some distant settlement, their 
signals and cries are as unintelligible to me as are the 
learned languages to an unlettered mechanic: I under- 
stand as little of their policy and laws as they do of 
Blackstone's Commentaries. 

" Alas ! then, what have I gained by my laborious 
researches but an humbling conviction of my weakness 
and ignorance ! Of how little has man, at his best estate, 
to boast ! What folly in him to glory in his contracted 
powers, or to value himself upon his imperfect acquisi- 
tions!'' 

^* Well! '' exclaimed a young lady, just returned from 
school, ^' my education is at last finished : indeed, it 
would be strange if, after five years' hard application, 
anything were left incomplete. Happily, it is all over 
now, and I have nothing to do but exercise my various 
accomplishments. 

" Let me see! — as to Frencii, I am mistress of that, 
and speak it, if possible, with more fluency than English. 
Italian I can read with ease, and pronounce very well, as 
well at least, and better, than any of my friends; and 
that is all one need wish for in Italian. Music I have 
learned till I am perfectly sick of it. But, now that we 
have a grand piano, it will be delightful to play when we 
have company. And then there are my Italian songs, 
which everybody allows I sing with taste, and as it is 
what so few people can pretend to, I am particularly glad 
that I can. My drawings are universally admired, es- 
pecially the shells and flowers, which are beautiful, cer- 
tainly : besides this, I have a decided taste in all kinds 
of fancy ornaments. And then, my dancing and waltzing, 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 177 

in which our master himself owned that he could take 
me no farther ; — -just the figure for it, certainly ! it would 
be unpardonable if I did not excel. As to common 
things, geography, and history, and poetiy, and philoso- 
phy, thank my stars, I have got through them all ! so 
that I may consider myself not only perfectly accom- 
plished, but also thoroughly well informed. 

^' Well, to be sure, how much I have fagged through; 
the only wonder is that one head can contain it all !" 

Jane Taylor. 



THE KNIGHT OF ARTS AND INDUSTRY. 

Amid the greenwood shade this boy was bred, 
And grew at last a knight of niuchel fame, 
Of active mind and vigorous lustyhed, 
The Knight of Arts and Industry by name. 
Earth was his bed, and boughs his roof did frame ; 
He knew no beverage but the flowing stream ; 
His tasteful well-earn'd food the sylvan game, 
Or the brown fruit with which the woodlands teem : 
The same to him glad summer, or the winter brerae. 

.Him did Minerva rear and nurture well, 
In every science and in every art, 
By which mankind the thoughtless brutes excel. 
That can or use, or joy, or grace impart, 
Disclosing all the powers of head and heart : 
Ne were the goodly exercises spared 
That brace the nerves, or make the limbs alert, 
And mix elastic force with firmness hard : 
Was never knight on ground mote be with him compared. 

Sometimes, with early mom, he mounted gay 
The hunter-steed, exulting o'er the dale, 
And drew the roseate breath of orient day ; 
Sometimes, retiring to the secret vale, 
Yclad in steel, and bright with burnish' d mail. 
He strain'd the bow, or toss^ the sounding spear, 
Or, darting on the goal, outstripp'd the gale. 
Or wheel' d the chariot in its mid- career, 
Or strenuous wrestled hard with many a tough compeer. 

I 



178 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. T. 

At other times he pried through Nature's store, 
Whatever she in the ethereal round contains, 
Whatever she hides beneath her verdant floor, 
The vegetable and the mineral reigns ; 
Or else he scann'd the globe, those small domains, 
Where restless mortals such a turmoil keep, 
Its seas, its floods, its mountains, and its plains ; 
But more, he searched the mind, and roused from sleep 
Those moral seeds whence we heroic actions reap. 

Nor would he scorn to stoop from high pursuits 
Of heavenly truth, and practise what she taught. 
Vam is the tree of knowledge without fruits. 
Sometim.es in hand the spade or plough he caught. 
Forth calling all with which boon earth is fraught ; 
Sometimes he plied the strong mechanic tool, 
Or rear'd the fabric from the finest draught ; 
And oft he put himself to Neptune's school, 
Fighting with winds and waves on the vext ocean-pool. 

To solace then these rougher toils, he tried 
To touch the kindling canvass into life ; 
With nature his creating pencil vied. 
With nature, joyous at the mimic strife ; 
Or, to such shapes as graced Pygmalion's wife. 
He hew'd the marble ; or, with varied fire, 
He roused the trumpet and the martial fife, 
Or bade the lute sweet tenderness inspire. 
Or verses framed that well might wake Apollo's lyre. 

Accomplish'd thus he from the woods issued. 
Full of great aims, and bent on bold emprize ; 
The work wliich long he in his breast had brew'd. 
Now to perform he ardent did devise ; 
To-wit, a barbarous world to civilize. 
Earth was till then a boundless forest wild : 
Nought to be seen but savage woods and skies ; 
No cities nourish'd arts, no culture smiled, 
No government, no laws, no gentle manners mild. 

A rugged wight, the worst of brutes, was man : 
On his own wTCtched kind he ruthless prey'd : 
The strongest still the weakest overran ; 
In every country mighty robbers sway'd. 
And guile and ruffian-force were all their trade. 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 179 

Life was a scene of rapine, want, and woe ; 
Which this brave knight, in noble anger, made 
To swear he would the rascal rout overthrow, 
For, by the powers divine, it should no more be so ! 

THOMSOir. 



THIRTY YEARS AGO. 

Thirty years ago there v^ere many hundred millions of 
human beings alive who are now dead. It requires not 
the aid of inspiration to foretell the same catastrophe, re- 
specting hundreds of millions now living, in thirty years 
to come. 

Thirty years ago the slave-trade was a lawful, honour- 
able, humane, and Christian occupation. It is now piracy, 
and persons engaged in it are liable to be ^^ hanged by 
the neck until dead ^' at the yard-arm. Human laws are 
ever varymg — justice is eternal. Slavery itself is now 
as lawful, honourable, and Christian a thing as the slave- 
trade was then; but there are some signs of the times 
which afford a hope that, by a natm'al demise, a legal 
execution, or actual suicide, our colonies will be rid of 
this curse in thirty years to come. 

Thirty years ago Bonaparte was not known, except 
as an artillery- officer in the French army. His cam- 
paigns in Italy, Geimany, Egypt, Syria, Poland, and 
Russia, his chief consulship, his imperial dignity, his ab- 
dication, his exile in Elba, his return to Paris, his over- 
throw at Waterloo, his imprisonment at St Helena, and 
his death, have all been and gone, and are as if they had 
never been, except in their consequences, which wiU not 
cease to be implicated with the fate of nations till the 
world's end. There may be a boy at school this day who 
shaU arrive at equal eminence of power, glory, and domin- 
ion over the destinies of man, through life and beyond 
the grave, in thirty years to come. 

Thirty years ago the small-pox was a perpetual pesti- 
lence, walking in darkness' throughout the world wherever 
ships and armies, merchants or travellers, from Europe 

^^ Written about the year 1820. 



180 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. V. 

had visited. Vaccination has chased this fiend " from 
the rising of the sun to the going down of the same;" 
and, from the shores of Greenland to Patagonia, there 
will scarcely be a pock-marked face to be seen in thirty 
years to come. 

Thirty years ago there was scarcely a poet living 
among us except Cowper and Peter Pindar. There are 
now as many authors of volumes of verse as days in the 
year, — ay, even in leap year, — we had almost said hours. 
The works of thirty of these may perhaps be remembered 
for thirty years to come. 

Thirty years ago there were neither gas-lights, nor 
steam-packets, nor safety-lamps, nor life-boats, nor a 
hundred other useful mechanical and philosophical inven- 
tions. All these will most probably be improved beyond 
what can be anticipated in thirty years to come. 

Thirty years ago there were neither Bible, nor Mis- 
sionary, nor Tract, nor School Societies, for the instruction 
and conversion of the heathen at home and abroad in the 
only true religion, of all that bear that desecrated name 
under heaven. There are now about fifty parent insti- 
tutions of the kind, whose progeny of auxiliaries at least 
reach a thousand, and whose income amounts to nearly 
half a million sterling. It is not unreasonable to expect 
that these may be increased tenfold, at the least computa- 
tion, during thirty years to come. Montgomery. 



THE VOICE OF SPRING. 

I COME, I come ! ye have call'd me long, 
I come o'er the mountains with light and song ; 
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, 
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, 
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, 
By the green leaves opening as I pass. 

I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut-flowers 
By thousands have burst from the forest-bowers 
And the ancient graves, and the fallen fanes, 
Are veil'd with wreaths on Italian plains. 



SECT. y. A COURSE OF READING. 181 

— But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom, 
To speak of the ruin or the tomb ! 

I have pass'd o'er the hills of the stormy North, 

And the larch has hung all his tassels forth, 

The fisher is out on the sunny sea, 

And the rein-deer bounds through the pasture free, 

And the pine has a fringe of softer green. 

And the moss looks bright where my step has been. 

I have sent through the wood-paths a gentle sigh, 
And call'd out each voice of the deep-blue sky, 
From the night-bird's lay through the starry time, 
In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime. 
To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes, 
When the dark fir-bough into verdure breaks. 

From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain ; 
They are sweeping on to the silvery main, 
They are flashing dowi^ from the mountain-brows, 
They are flinging spray on the forest-boughs. 
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves, 
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves. 

Come forth, ye children of gladness, come ! 
Where the violets lie may now be your home. 
• Ye of the rose- cheek and dew-bright eye. 
And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly, 
With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay, 
Come forth to the sunshine, I may not stay. 

Away from the dwellings of care-worn men, 
The waters are sparkling in wood and glen ; 
Away from the chamber and dusky hearth. 
The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth ; 
Then- light stems thrill to the wild- wood strains, 
And Youth is abroad in my green domains. 

Mrs Hemans. 



PROPHECY. 

Man is endowed with faculties which enable him not 
only to recollect the past, but also, within certain limits, 
to anticipate the future. Encouraged to expect a con- 



182 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V. 

tinuance of the. course of nature, and of regularity in the 
order of causes and effects, his reminiscences of the past 
aid his calculations of the future; and his sagacity, 
guided by experience, aspires, in many instances, to the 
character of foresight. Many physical events, such as 
eclipses, the changes of the seasons, the results of certain 
combinations of machinery, and the like, he can thus 
predict with infallible certainty; and even in regard to 
the future effects of moral causes, he can frequently speak 
with perfect confidence. 

But Prophecy^ in the enlarged sense of the word, as 
relating to events and circumstances altogether beyond 
the range of human calculation and experience, can be- 
long only to prescience, — an attribute of that mind which 
is at once omniscient and omnipotent. To him only who 
formed all creatures, and who controls all events, is the 
future as distinctly known as the past, — is the book of 
decrees as open as the book of remembrance. He only 
can disclose the train of future events ; — and if any book 
therefore exists, which contains a series of such disclosures, 
such a book must necessarily have proceeded from his in- 
spiration and authority. 

Such a book the Bible professes to be ! and it is our 
duty to examine and decide upon its claims. Have we 
satisfactory evidence, then, that its predictions were re- 
corded and promulgated before the events which they 
describe ? Is there an obvious and palpable accordance 
between the predictions and the events ? Are the events 
of such a nature, that, when the prophecies were pro- 
mulged, it was impossible for human sagacity to have fore- 
seen their occurrence ? If these three questions can be 
answered in the affirmative in reference to the predic- 
tions in question, we are furnished with an insuperable 
argument for the inspu'ation and divine authority of the 
Bible. Now, these questions can be answered in the 
affirmative. 

There are numerous prophecies in the Old Testa- 
ment of which the accomplishment is recorded in the 
New. Of this kind are those which relate to the Mes- 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. ] 83 

siah. In the writings of David and Isaiah, we have 
a series of predictions, which foretell, in the most definite 
tei-ms, the following circumstances : — That the Messiah 
was to be a descendant of David, — that he was to be the 
son of a virgin, — that he was to be a native of Beth- 
lehem, — that he was to be a resident in Galilee, — that 
he was to be destitute of external recommendations to 
public notice, — that he was to pass through a life of suf- 
fering, — that he was to be betrayed hy a familiar friend, 
— that he was to be proceeded against as a culprit, — that 
he was to display consummate meekness and patience, — 
that he was to be cut off by a violent death, yet with the 
forms of justice, — that his apparel was to be parcelled out 
among his executioners, — that, although classed among 
malefactors, he was to be interred in a rich man's tomb, 
— that he was to rise again from the dead without under- 
going the process of corruption, — and that he was to 

leave this world and ascend up into heaven. Now, to 

these predictions apply the three tests which have been 
mentioned. Were these prophecies written and pub- 
lished previously to the events? — Let the Jews, the 
adversaries of Christianity, answer ! These prophecies are 
in their Bibles as well as in ours ; and it is a well-au- 
thenticated fact, that they were extant, not only in the 
original Hebrew, but also in a Greek translation, long 
before the era of the Gospel history. Is there an ob- 
vious and palpable accordance between these predictions 
and the record of the occurrences ? Compare the passages 
in the Psalms and in Isaiah with the histoiy of the events 
as given by the Evangelists, and you will be fully satisfied 
of the precise, the minute, and the multiplied coinci- 
dences between the one and the other. And is not the 

third criterion equally applicable ? Is it conceivable, that 
circumstances so complicated, so unparalleled, so far re- 
moved from the range of human conjecture, could, by 
any possibility, have been foreseen even by the most 
sagacious of our race ?-^ Can the predictions, then, be 
accounted for in any other way than by tracing them to 
divine prescience ? or can the books which contain them 



184 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. Y. 

have been dictated by any other autliorlty but tlie author- 
ity of Heaven ? 

There are many prophecies in both the Old and New 
Testament, of which the accomplishment is recorded in 
profane history. Such, for example, are Daniers astonish- 
ing predictions respecting the four successive monarchies, 
which, for a course of ages, were to give laws to the most 
civilized nations of the earth. Such also are the explicit 
predictions respecting Egypt, and Tyre, and Nineveh, 
and Babylon, and Ishmael ; and such are the prophecies 
in regard to the destruction of Jerusalem, and the final 
dispersion of the Jews ; — all of which have been so sig- 
nally fulfilled. To all these, it must be evident, the tests 
already mentioned are strictly applicable. 

A third class of Scripture-prophecies relate to events 
which are still in the course of fulfilment. They re- 
gard principally the progressive diffusion of Christianity 
through the Gentile world, and they are to be found in 
almost every book of the Bible from Genesis to Revela- 
tion. To such predictions the second test is only par- 
tially applicable, but the first and third apply in all their 
latitude. Nothing short of Divine prescience could have 
foretold even such a propagation of Christianity as that 
which has already taken place. Think of the state of 
the world, we say not in the days of Abraham, who first 
made the prediction, or of David, or of Isaiah, or even 
our Lord, who successively repeated it, but think of it in 
the days of the Apostles. Think of the exclusive nature 
of the Jewish religion, of the supercilious contempt with 
which they regarded all other nations, and the thorough 
dislike with which all other nations regarded them. — 
Think of the qualifications of the first propagators of the 
Gospel, and of the opposition with which they had to 
contend both from Jews and Gentiles, — and say, whether 
human sagacity could have foreseen the triumphs of 
Christianity ? and whether predictions so clear, so strong, 
so numerous, so coincident with the facts now recorded in 
the history of the Christian Church, must not necessarily 
have had an origin in the prescience which is divine ? 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 185 

There is a fourth class of Scripture-prophecies, — those 
which are still unfulfilled, — but these, of course, cannot 
at present be adduced as evidences of the inspiration and 
divine authority of the Bible. In the course of ages, 
however, they will doubtless be employed for this pur- 
pose; and, in the mean time, they ought to command 
our implicit belief, as forming a part of that record which 
is proved, by the fulfilled predictions which it contains, to 
be a revelation from Heaven. 



THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 

The Lord shall come ! the earth shall quake ; 
The mountains to their centre shake ; 
And, withering from the vault of night, 
The stars shall pale their feeble light — 
The Lord shall come ! but not the same 
As once m lowliness he came, — 
A silent Lamb before his foes, 
A weary man, and full of woes, 
The Lord shall come ! a dreadful form, 
With rainbow- wreath, and robes of storm ; 
On cherub-wings, and wings of wind, 
Appointed Judge of all mankind. 
Can this be He, who wont to stray 
A pilgrim on the world's highway, 
Oppress'd by power, and mock'd by pride, 
The Nazarene, — the Crucified? 
While sinners in despair shall call, 
" Rocks, hide us ; mountains, on us fall !" 
The saints, ascending from the tomb. 
Shall joyful sing, ^' The Lord is come !" 



Heber. 



The hundred-gated Cities then, 

The Towers and Temples, named of men 

Eternal, and the Thrones ^of Kings ; 

The gilded summer Palaces, 

The courtly bowers of love and ease, 

Where still the Bird of pleasure sings : 



i2 



186 A COURSE OP READING* SECT* V. 

Ask ye the destiny of them ? 

Go, gaze on fallen Jerusalem ! 
Yea, mightier names are in the fatal roll, 
'Gainst earth and heaven God's standard is unfurl'd, 
The skies are shrivell'd like a burning scroll, 
And one vast common doom ensepulchres the world ! 

MiLMAN. 



Stand the Omnipotent decree, 

Jehovah's will be done ! 

Nature's end we wait to see. 

And hear her final groan J 

Let this earth dissolve and blend 

In death the wicked and the just : 

Let those ponderous orbs descend. 

And grind us into dust ! 

Rests secure the righteous man. 

At his Redeemer's beck, 
Sure to emerge and rise again. 
And mount above the wreck ; 
Lo ! the heavenly spirit towers, 
Like flames o'er Nature's funeral pyre : 
Triumphs in immortal powers, 
And claps his wings of fire ! 

Nothing hath the just to lose. 

By worlds on worlds destroy'd ; 
Far beneath his feet he views. 
With smiles the flaming void ; 
Sees this universe renew'd. 
The grand millennial reign begun ; 
Shouts with all the sons of God 
Around the Eternal throne ! 



C. Wesley. 



Compound bodies are innumerable; but none are moro 
important than the two I shall now describe to you, — 
air and water. 

The term atmosphere is applied to that mass of gase- 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 187 

ous matter which everywhere surrounds the earth, which 
is preserved at the surface of the earth by the force of grav- 
ity, and which revolves together with it around the sun. 
Air was one of the four elements of the ancients; but 
modem chemistry has demonstrated it to be a compound 
body. There is now no doubt that it is composed of 
oxygen and nitrogen, and that 100 measures of pure at- 
mospheric air consist of 20 volumes of oxygen and 80 of 
nitrogen. This, however, it must be recollected, is the 
constitution of pure atmospheric air. The atmosphere 
itself is never absolutely pure ; it always, contains a cer- 
tain variable quantity of carbonic acid and watery vapour, 
besides the odoriferous matter of flowers and other vola- 
tile substances. But carbonic acid never exceeds 1 in 
100 parts, and generally amounts only to 1- 1000th or 
l-2000th of the whole. — The chief chemical properties 
of the atmosphere are owing to the presence of oxygen 
gas. Air, from which this principle has been withdrawn, 
can no longer support respiration" and combustion ; and 
metals are not oxydized by being heated in it. Most of 
the spontaneous changes which mineral and dead organ- 
ized matters undergo are owmg to the powerful affinities 
of oxygen. But, whilst oxygen is essential to the life of 
animals, it does not appear that the healthiness of the 
air, at different times and in different places, depends on 



* The necessity of oxygen to the support of life, was strikingly ex- 
emplified in the fate of the unhappy men who died in the hlacJc-hole of 
Calcutta. On the 20th of June 1756, ahout eight o'clock in the 
evening, 146 men were forced, at the point of the bayonet, into a 
dungeon only 18 feet square. They had been but a few minutes 
confined in this Lufemal prison, before every one fell into a perspira- 
tion so profuse, that no idea can be formed of it. This brought on 
a raging thirst, the most difficult respiration, and an outrageous de- 
lirium. Such was the horror of their situation, that every insult that 
could be devised against the guard without, and all the opprobrious 
names that the viceroy and his officers could be loaded with, were re- 
peated, to provoke the guard to^fire upon them, and terminate their 
sufferings. Before 11 o'clock the same evening one-third of the men 
were dead; and before 6 next morning only 23 came out alive, but 
most of them in a high putrid fever. 



188 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. V. 

the relative quantity of this gas. It appears, on the con- 
trary, that the composition of the air is not only constant 
in the same place, but is the same in all regions of the 
earth, and at all altitudes. Air collected at the summit 
of the highest mountains contains the same proportion of 
oxygen as that of the lowest valleys. The air of Egypt 
is the same as that of France. Even the miasmata of 
marshes, and the effluvia of infected places, owe their 
noxious qualities to some principle of too subtile a nature 
to be detected by chemical means, and not to any defi- 
ciency of oxygen. 

Since oxygen is necessary to combustion, to the res- 
piration of animals, and to various other natural opera- 
tions, by all of which that gas is withdrawn from the air, 
it is obvious that its quantity would gradually diminish 
unless the tendency of those causes was counteracted by 
some compensating process. To all appearance there 
does exist some source of compensation. The only source, 
however, by which it is known to be supplied is by the 
action of growing vegetables. A healthy plant absorbs 
carbonic acid during the day, appropriates the carbonace- 
ous part of that gas to its own wants, and evolves the 
oxygen with which it was combined. During the night, 
indeed, an opposite efifect is produced. Oxygen gas then 
disappears, and carbonic acid is eliminated ; but there is 
reason to believe that plants during 24 hours yield more 
oxygen than they consume. 



Water is found by chemists to be composed of oxygen 
and hydrogen. Its constitution, by weight, is 8 of the 
former and 1 of the latter, and by measure, 1 of the former 
and 2 of the latter. It is one of the most powerful chem- 
ical agents we possess; and its agency is owing partly 
to the extensive range of its own affinity, and partly to 
the nature of its constituent parts. It combines directly 
with many bodies ; sometimes in a variable ratio, as in 
ordinary solution, sometimes in a fixed definite proportion, 
as is exemplified by its union with several of the acids, the 
alkalies, and all salts that contain water of crystallization. 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 189 

The purest water that can be found as a natural pro- 
duct is procured b}' melting freshly-fallen snow, or by 
receivmg rain in clean vessels at a distance from houses. 
But this water is not absolutely pure ; for, if placed 
under the exhausted receiver of an air-pump, bubbles of 
gas escape from it, which gas is much richer in oxygen 
than atmospheric air. All water which has once fallen 
on the ground becomes impregnated with more or less 
earthy or saline matters, and can be separated from them 
only by distillation. The distilled water thus obtained is 
absolutely pure. 

There is a peculiarity in the eflfect of caloric upon water 
which deserves particular notice. The general law in re- 
gard to caloric is, that when it is added to bodies they 
expand, and when it is withdrawn from them they contract. 
But this law holds true of water only within certain 
limits. Ice, as every one knows, swims upon the surface 
of water, and therefore must be lighter than it, which is 
a convincing proof that water, at the moment of freezing, 
must expand. The increase is estimated at about yoth 
of its volume. The most remarkable circumstance at- 
tending this expansion is the prodigious force with which 
it is effected. Mr Boyle filled a brass tube, three inches 
in diameter, with water, and confined it by means of a 
movable plug; the expansion, when it froze, took place 
with such violence as to push out the plug, though pre- 
served in its situation by a weight equal to 74 pounds. 
This accounts for the bursting of pipes, the disruption of 
mounds of earth, &c., which often accompany severe frosts. 
But it is not merely during the act of congelation that 
water expands, for it begins to dilate considerably before 
it actually freezes. From decisive experiments made by 
Dr Hope, it appears that water obeys the usual law till 
it has cooled to the temperature of 40° F., after which the 
abstraction of caloric produces an increase instead of a 
diminution of volume. 

The cause of the expansion of water at the moment of 
freezing is attributed to a new and peculiar arrangement 
of its particles. Ice is in reality crystallized water, and 



190 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V. 

during its formation the particles arrange themselves in 
ranks and lines, which cross each other, and consequently 
occupy more space than when they were in a liquid state. 
No very satisfactory reason can be assigned for the ex- 
pansion which takes place previous to congelation. But 
it is supposed that the water begins to arrange itself in 
the order it will assume in the solid state before actually 
laying aside the liquid form. But whatever be the chem- 
ical cause of the expansion of water under reduction of 
temperature, ihejinal cause is obvious. Had the case been 
otherwise, had water, when deprived of a portion of its 
caloric, become specifically heavier than it was before, 
the present constitution of nature would have been ma- 
terially deranged, and many of our present comforts, nay, 
our very existence, would have been endangered. At 
whatever time the temperature of the atmosphere became 
reduced to the freezing-point, the water on the surface of 
our rivers and lakes would have been converted into a 
layer of ice ; this layer would have sunk to the bottom as 
it froze ; another layer of ice would have been imme- 
diately produced, which would have sunk to the former 
layer, and so on, in succession, till, in the course of time, 
all our rivers, from the surface to the bottom, and every 
other portion of water capable of being frozen, would 
have been converted into solid masses of ice, which all 
the heat of summer could never have melted. We should 
have been deprived of most of the advantages we now 
derive from the liquid element, and in a short time the 
face of nature would have been transformed into a frozen 
chaos. But in the existing constitution of things, all 
such dismal effects are prevented in consequence of the 
Creator having subjected the waters to a law contrary to 
that of most other fluids, by means of which the frozen 
water swims upon the surface, and prevents the cold from 
penetrating to any great depth in the subjacent fluid. 
How admirably then does this exception to the general 
law of nature display the infinite intelligence of the Great 
Contriver of all things, and his providential care for the 
comfort of his creatures 1 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 1 91' 

GRAVES OF THE POOR. 

Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 

Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; 

Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, 
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre : 

But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, 
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll : 

Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage, 
And froze the genial current of the soul. 

Full many a gem of purest ray serene 

The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; 
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 

And waste its sweetness on the desert air. 

Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, 

The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; 
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest ; 

Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. 

The applause of listening senates to command, 

The threats of pain and ruin to despise, 
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, 

And read their history in a nation's eyes, 

Their lot forbade : nor circumscribed alone 

Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined ; 

Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne. 
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind ; 

The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide ; 

To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame ; 
Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride 

With incense kindled at the muse's flame. 

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, 

Then* sober wishes never learn' d to stray ; 
Along the cool sequester'd vale of life 

They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 

Yet even these bones from insult to protect, 

Some frail memorial still erected nigh, 
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd 

Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. 



192 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V. 

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, 

This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned, 
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, 

Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind ? Grat. 



WHAT A CHANGE ! 

What was the condition of our country in the time of 
the Romans ? Look back and consider ; — see its ancient 
tribes, brave indeed, but savage — fishing in its waters, or 
hunting upon its mountains — their bodies painted in all 
the fantastic colours of barbarism — their minds still more 
disfigured with the stains of cruelty, impurity, and false- 
hood — the slaves of druidical idolatry — bending the knee 
to some demon — ^holding their wives as the slaves of their 
caprice and tyranny — and sacrificing the children whom 
God had given them at the shrine of the devil ! — ^What 
is our country now ? Its inhabitants are settled into civ- 
ilized and domestic life — the sciences cultivated — the arts 
advancing — ^industry, notwithstanding occasional stagna- 
tion, all astir — the fields waving with heavy corn — the 
most ingenious manufactures produced — the human intel- 
lect acknowledging but one God, all-gracious and mighty 
— tyranny over the female sex abolished — and the cruel 
immolation of children altogether unknown ! 

How has this wonderful change been produced? By 
the revelation of Jesus Christ. Human society will no 
doubt of itself make some progress towards civilisation ; 
but civilisation without Christianity is barbarism. Is 
China civilized, with her infants exposed to the dogs or 
to the vultures ? Is Hindostan civilized, with her widows 
self-immolated with the bodies of their deceased hus- 
bands, or her aged inhabitants exposed alive by their own 
children on the banks of the Ganges? Are Mohammedan 
countries civilized, with their females kept in almost con- 
stant confinement, and made the subjects of the most 
intolerable oppression ? In none of the countries where a 
false religion prevails can you ever find the human mind 
in that healthful condition which is necessary to the per- 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 193 

formance of anything that is truly great or noble. Even 
the much- extolled nations of antiquity, although they 
exliibited the grandeur of intellect, did not exhibit the 
grandeur of morals ; and it is the union of the two which 
alone can elevate man to that dignified station which his 
nature was intended to occupy. It is the gospel of Jesus 
Christ which has softened the human heart, saving in- 
fants, and widows, and parents from premature death, and 
the female sex from bondage. It is the gospel which, 
emancipating man from the slavery of false religion, and 
thus communicating a right direction to his moral and 
intellectual energies, has become the parent of ingenuity, 
industry, learning, and happiness. Search the annals of 
the nations of antiquity, or of any country to which the 
gospel is a stranger, — where, amongst them, do you find 
any provision for the poor, any asylum for the destitute, 
any lazar-house for the sick, any refuge for the penitent 
profligate ? But see these monuments of the spirit of the 
Christian religion scattered throughout our land — these 
trophies of her victory over the selfishness, or thoughtless- 
ness, or cruelty of human nature ! Were an ancient 
Greek or Roman, wrapping himself up in his scattered 
ashes, to rise from the dead, and to demand a proof of the 
blessings shed on Britain by the gospel, I would point 
to our hospitals, to our infirmaries, to our penitentiaries ; 
I would lead him to inspect our societies for clothing the 
naked, for visiting the destitute, for relieving the poor; 
and I would ask him, without fear of an answer in the 
affirmative, if such things were known in the cities of 
antiquity — in republican Athens, in imperial Rome ? The 
mountains of our country show their features as rough as 
they did two thousand years ago — its torrents foam down 
their rocky beds with the same violence as ever — the 
ocean around us, hoary with storms, precipitates itself 
upon our shores with equal violence as in the days of 
Druidism. But how changed are the inhabitants of that 
country ! Barbarism and^ cruelty have, like the snow 
before the sun, disappeared before the beams of Chris- 



194 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V. 

tianity; the moral world has assumed a mild and genial 
aspect, the efflorescence of Christian virtue has burst out 
upon it ; and the ancient song has been verified, — " The 
winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers 
appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is 
come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.'^ 

Leisure Hours, 



CHRISTIAN MISSIONS. 

When wilt thou arise and reign, 

Lord of angels, King of men, 

Gird thy sword upon thy thigh. 

And lift thy banner, thou Most High ! 

Heathen cities only wait 

Thy bidding, to throw wide each gate; 

Heathen temples only stay 

Thy beck, to bid their gods away. 

Trumpet-tongues, that wont to vaunt 
Of idols dumb, thy word but want, 
Jesus' matchless name to shout 
All the wondering world throughout. 
Speak, — and o'er each heathen isle 
Bethlehem's star-beams sweetly smile ! 
Speak, — and by each heathen tongue 
Bethlehem's angel-hymn is sung I 

And 'tis done : — already see 

Myriads shout thy victory ; 

Kings of Ind already greet 

With costliest gems thy welcome feet, 

Thou hast conquer'd, thou hast slain ! 

Lord of angels, King of men ! 

Girt thy sword upon thy thigh. 

And waved thy cross triumphantly ! Original. 



From Greenland's icy mountains, 
From India's coral strand, 

Where Afric's sunny fountains 
Roll down their golden sand ; 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING, 195 

From many an ancient river, 

From many a palmy plain, — 
They call us to deliver 

Their land from error's chain. 

Shall we, whose souls are lighted 

With wisdom from on high. 
Shall we to men benighted 

The lamp of light deny ? 
Salvation ! salvation ! 

The joyful sound proclaim; 
Till each remotest nation 

Has learn'd Messiah's name. 

Waft, waft, ye winds, his story 

And you, ye waters, roll. 
Till, like a sea of glory. 

It spreads from pole to pole ; 
Till o'er om* ransom'd nature 

The Lamb for sinners slain, 
Kedeemer, King, Creator, 

In bliss returns to reign. Heber. 



CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD. 

The manner in which the blood-vessels are disposed in 
the human body bears some resemblance to the arrange- 
ment of the pipes by which a great city is supplied with 
water. London is supplied by means of an engine con^ 
trived for the purpose of distributing the water of the 
New River through the city. Large trunks are carried 
from this machine in different directions; smaller pipes 
branch out from these trunks into streets, lanes, and al- 
leys ; still smaller ones issue from them, and convey the 
water into private houses. So far the resemblance is 
complete. These water-pipes represent the arteries 
which cany the blood from the heart to the extremities 
of the body ; but in the human body another contrivance 
was necessary. The citizens of London may use the 
water or waste it as they please ; but the precious fluid 
conveyed by the arteries to the ends of the fingers must 



196 A COURSE OF READINa^ SECT. V. 

be returned to tlie heart ; for on its unceasing circulation 
our health depends. 

In order to effect this purpose, another set of pipes is 
prepared, called veins ^ which, joining the extremities of 
the arteries, receive the blood from them, and carry it 
back again to the heart. The veins present the same 
general appearance as the arteries ; but as it is the office 
of the arteries to distribute the blood, so it is that of the 
veins to collect it. Through them it flows back to the 
heart in a manner just the reverse of that in which it 
sets out ; the minute veins unite in larger branches, the 
larger branches unite in still larger trunks, till the col- 
lected blood is at length poured into the heart through 
one opening. 

The engine that works this curious machinery is the 
heart The heart is composed of four cavities. Like 
other muscles, it has the power of contracting ; and when 
it contracts, the sides of its cavities are squeezed together, 
so as to force out any fluid the heart may at that moment 
contain. This purpose being efi'ected, the fibres relax, the 
heart once more becomes hollow, and as it dilates, the 
blood pours into the cavities from the large vein which 
brings it back to the heart. The next contraction forces 
the blood into the arteries, the quantity thus impelled 
being always equal to that which has just been received ; 
and thus this wonderful organ goes on, alternately contract- 
ing and dilating itself, four thousand times in an hour. 
Month after month, year after year, it goes on without 
weariness or interruption, conveying renewed strength to 
every part of the body. The two largest cavities of the 
heart, which send out the blood to the arteries, are called 
ventricles ; the two smallest, which receive it from the 
veins, auricles. All the arteries are furnished with valves 
that play easily forward, but admit not the blood to return 
to the heart. — [See Illustrations^ Fig. 19.) 

In all this there is abundant evidence of wise con- 
trivance. The blood, in going out from the heart, is 
continually passing from wide tubes into those which are 
narrower ; in coming back, it passes from narrow vessels 



s 



SECT. V. A COURSE OP READING. 197 

into wider ; consequently the blood presses the sides of 
the arteries with greater force than it acts against the 
coats of the veins. To prevent any danger from this 
difterence of pressure, the arteries are formed of much 
tougher and stronger materials than the veins. This is 
one difference between the two ; there is another still 
more strikingly illustrative of the care of the Great Ar- 
tificer. As a wound in the arteries, through which the 
blood passes with such force from the heart, would be 
more dangerous than a wound in the veins, the arteries 
are defended, not only by their stronger texture, but by 
their more sheltered situation. They are deeply buried 
among the muscles, or they creep along grooves made for 
them in the bones. The under side of the ribs is sloped 
and furrowed, to allow these important tubes to pass 
along in safety ; and in the fingers, which are liable to so 
many casualties, the bones are hollowed out in the inside 
like a scoop. Along this channel the artery runs in such 
security, that you might cut your finger across to the 
bone without doing it any injury. Mrs Hack. 



A MOONLIGHT NIGHT AT VENICE. 
TiS 

A goodly night ; the cloudy wind which blew 

From the Levant hath crept into its cave, 

And the broad moon has brighten'd. What a stillness ! 

And what a contrast with the scene I left, 

Where the tall torches and the silver lamps 

Spread over the reluctant gloom, wliich haunts 

Those vast and dimly-latticed galleries, 

A dazzling mass of artificial light, 

Which show'd all things, but nothing as they were. 

There Age essaying to recall the past, 

After long striving for the hues of youth 

At the sad labour of the toilet, and 

Full many a glance at the too faithful mirror, 

Forgot itself, and trusting to the falsehood 

Of the indulgent beams, which show, yet hide, 

Believed itself forgotten, and was fool'd. 



198 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V. 

There youth, which needed not, nor thought of such 

Vain adjuncts, lavished its true bloom, and health, 

And bridal beauty, in the unwholesome press 

Of flush' d and crowded wassailers, and wasted 

Its hours of rest in dreaming this was pleasure, 

And so shall waste them till the sunrise streams 

On sallow cheeks and sunken eyes, which should not 

Have worn this aspect yet for many a year. 

The music, and the banquet, and the wine — 

The garlands, the rose-odours, and the flowers — 

The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments — 

All the delusion of the dizzy scene. 

Its false and true enchantments, — art and nature. 

Which swam before my giddy eyes, that drank 

The sight of beauty as the parcli'd pilgrim's 

On Arab's sands the false mu-age, which offers 

A lucid lake to his eluded thirst — 

Are gone. Around me are the stars and waters — 

Worlds mirror' d in the ocean, goodlier sight 

Than torches glared back by a gaudy glass ; 

And the great element, which is to space 

What ocean is to earth, spreads its blue depths, 

Soften'd with the first breathings of the spring ; 

The high moon sails upon her beauteous way, 

Serenely smoothing o'er the lofty walls 

Of those tall piles and sea-girt palaces. 

Whose porphyry pillars, and whose costly fronts. 

Seem each a trophy of some mighty deed 

Rear'd up from out the waters, scarce less strangely 

Than those more massy and mysterious giants 

Of architecture, those Titanian fabrics, 

Which point in Egypt's plains to times that have 

No other record. All is gentle : nought 

Stirs rudely ; but, congenial with the night. 

Whatever walks is gliding like a spirit. 

The tinklings of some soft guitars ; — the dash 

Phosphoric of the oar, or rapid twinkle 

Of the far lights of skimming gondolas. 

And the responsive voices of the choir 

Of boatmen answering back with verse for verse ; 

Some dusky shadow chequering the Rialto ; 

Some glimmering palace-roof or tapering spire, 



/ 



SECT. V. A COURSE OP READING. ] 99 

Are all the sights and sounds which here pervade 

The ocean-born and earth- commanding city. — 

How sweet and soothing is this hour of calm ! Byron. 



RHETORICAL EXTRACTS. 

1. Amidst this company stood Mr Watt of Birming- 
ham, the man whose genius discovered the means of 
multiplying our national resources to a degree perhaps 
even beyond his OTvn stupendous powers of calculation ; 
bringing the treasures of the abyss to the summit of the 
earth ; giving the feeble arm of man the momentum of an 
Afrit ; commanding manufactures to arise, as the rod of 
the prophet produced water in the desert ; affording the 
means of dispensing with that " time and tide which 
wait for no man ; '^ and of sailing without that wind which 
defied the commands and threats of Xerxes himself. 
This potent commander of the elements — this abridger 
of time and space — was not only the most profound man 
of science, the most successful combiner of powers and 
calculator of numbers as adapted to practical purposes — 
was not only one of the most generally well-informed, 
but one of the best and kindest of human beings. Me- 
thinks I yet see and hear what I shall never see or hear 
again. In his 85th year, the alert, kind, benevolent old 
man had his attention at every one's question, his infor- 
mation at every one's command. His talents and fancy 
ever flowed on every subject. One gentleman was a 
deep philologist — ^he talked with him on the origin of the 
alphabet as if he had been coeval with Cadmus ; another, 
a celebrated critic — you would have said the old man had 
studied political economy and belles lettres all his life ; 
— of science it is unnecessary to speak — it was his own 
distinguished walk. Sir Walter Scott. 



2. If nature has denied^ to Britain the fruitful vine, 
the fragrant myrtle, the spontaneous soil, and the beauti- 
ful climate, she has also exempted her from the parching 
drought, the deadly siroc, and the frightful tornado. If 



200 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V, 

our soil is poor and cliiirlisli, and our skies cold and 
frowning, the serpent never lurks within the one, nor the 
plague within the other. If our mountains are bleak and 
barren, they have at least nursed within their bosoms a 
race of men whose industry and intelligence have per- 
formed greater wonders, and supply a more inexhaustible 
fund of wealth, than all the mines of Mexico and Hin- 
dostan. If other nations furnish us with the materials 
of our manufactures, ours are the skill and industry that 
have enhanced their value a thousandfold ; ours are the 
capital and enterprise that have applied the great inven- 
tions of Watt and Arkwright, and made the ascendency 
of this little island be felt in the remotest corners of the 
world ; ours, in a word, are those institutions, civil, polit- 
ical, and religious, that have made us the envy of sur- 
rounding nations, and raised us to a pinnacle of greatness 
from which nothing but intestine foes can ever thrust us 

down. M^DlARMTD. 

3. Liberty is commensurate with and inseparable 
from British soil; British law proclaims even to the 
stranger and the sojourner, the moment he sets his foot 
upon British earth, that the ground on which he treads 
is holy, and consecrated by the genius of Universal Eman- 
cipation ! No matter in what language his doom may have 
been pronounced ; — no matter what complexion incom- 
patible with freedom an Indian or an African sun may 
have burnt upon him ; — no matter in what disastrous 
battle his liberty may have been cloven down ; — no matter 
with what solemnities he may have been devoted upon 
the altar of slavery; the first moment he touches the 
sacred soil of Britain, the altar and the god sink together 
in the dust ; his soul walks abroad in her own majesty ; 
his body swells beyond the measure of his chains, that 
burst from around him ; and he stands redeemed, regen- 
erated, and disenthralled, by the irresistible genius of 
Universal Emancipation ! Curran. 



4. The first great obstacle to the extinction of war is 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 201 

the way in whicli the heart of man is carried off from its 
horrors by the splendour of its accompaniments. There 
is a feeling of the sublime in contemplating the shock of 
annies, just as there is in contemplating the devouring 
energy of a tempest ; and this so engrosses the whole man, 
that his eye is blind to the tears of bereaved parents, and 
his ear is deaf to the piteous moan of the dying, and the 
shriek of their desolated families. — There is a graceful- 
ness in the picture of a youthful warrior burning for dis- 
tinction in the field : — and this side of the picture is so 
much the exclusive object of our regard as to disguise 
from our view the mangled carcasses of the fallen, and 
the wiithing agonies of the hundreds and the hundreds 
more who have been laid on the cold ground, where they 
are left to languish and to die. There no eye pities 
them. No sister is there to weep over them. There no 
gentle hand is present to ease the dying posture, or to 
bind up the wounds, which, in the maddening fury of the 
combat, have been given and received by the children of 
one common Father. Chalmers. 



5. — TUtis. It must be — 
And yet it moves me, Romans ! it confounds 
The counsel of my firm philosophy, 
That Ruin's merciless ploughshare must pass o'er, 
And barren salt be sown on yon proud city. 
As on our olive- crowned hill we stand, 
Where Kedron at our feet its scanty waters 
Distils from stone to stone with gentle motion, 
As through a valley sacred to sweet peace, 
How boldly doth it front us ! how majestically ! 
Like a luxurious vineyard, the hill side 
Is hung with marble fabrics, hne o'er line, 
Terrace o'er terrace, nearer stiU, and nearer 
To the blue heavens. There bright and sumptuous palaces, 
With cool and verdant gardens interspersed ; 
There towers of war that frown in massy strength ; 
Willie over all hangs the rich^pm'ple eve, 
As conscious of its being her last farewell 
Of fight and glory to that fated city. 
And, as our clouds of battle, dust, and smoke, 



202 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. V. 

Are melted into air, behold the Temple 

In undisturb'd and lone serenity, 

Finding itself a solemn sanctuary 

In the profound of heaven ! It stands before us 

A mount of snow, fretted with golden pinnacles ! 

The very sun, as though he worshipped there, 

Lingers upon the gilded cedar roofs. 

And down the long and branching porticos, 

On every flowery-sculptured capital, 

Glitters the homage of his parting beams. 

By Hercules ! the sight might almost win 

The offended majesty of Kome to mercy. Milman. 



6. Perhaps you say that your neglect of religion is 
only deferring it; that you are sensible it is a concern 
which you must attend to some time ; and that you are 
fuUy resolved to do so in maturer life. And are you 
saying this with the images before your mind of one, and 
another, and still another, within the circle of your knowl- 
edge whom you have seen cut oflf in youth ? Go, stand 
by their graves and repeat it there ; for there is foUy in 
it, if you could not on those spots repeat it with undis- 
turbed assurance : say, over those dead forms, now out 
of sight, but which you can so well in memory recall, 
such as you saw them, alert and blooming: say there 
deliberately, that you know not why you should not be 
quite at" your ease in delaying to some future time your 
application to religion. It is possible that some of them, 
in approaching the last hour, expressed to you an earnest 
admonition on this subject, conjuring you, in the name 
of a friend dying in youth, to beware of the guilt and 
hazard of delay. If so, go to the grave of that one espec- 
ially, and there pronounce, that an impertinence was 
uttered at a season when every sentence ought to be the 
voice of wisdom. Say^ " I am wiser in this carelessness 
of my spirit than thou wast in the very solemnity of 
death." — Why should you shrink at the idea of doing 
this? and if you dare not do it, what verdict are you 
admitting, by implication, as the just one to be pro- 
nounced on your conduct ? Foster. 



SECT. V. A COURSE OF READING. 203 

7. This writer shows mercy neither to the living nor 
to the dead, provided only they have the original sin of 
being Scotch. The very martyrs, to whom we owe much 
of that freedom in which we now rejoice as a cherished 
birthright, whose memories are dear to every man who is 
capable of appreciating high principle, patient endurance, 
unconquerable faith, and by whose humble graves the 
soil of our country is consecrated and hallowed, — these 
very martyrs he has tried to rob of their peculiar honours, 
and to lower in the estimation of the people for whose 
liberties they fought and died. He might have spared 
us this outrage at least on our feelings. Even if he had 
been at once a native and a resident of England, it was 
in miserable taste to leave his subject for the purpose of 
heaping insult on ancestors whom we venerate. But it 
is intolerable that this should be done by one who has vol- 
untarily migrated into our land, has sworn allegiance to 
that polity for which our martyrs struggled, and is eat- 
ing, at this very moment, the pleasant fruits of that plant 
of renown which they rooted with their hand and watered 
with their blood. He represents them as men mistaken 
in the work that God required of them ; and as falling 
like Homer's heroes rather than Christ's confessors, pro- 
phesying retribution, and denouncing judgment, against 
their oppressors ! 0, it is easy for those whom their fore- 
fathers have left nothing to fear, and nothing to suffer 
from the oppressor's arm, — for whom the battle has been 
won, and the yoke broken, and the blessing secured, — 
and to whom has descended the privilege of living secure 
and dying in peace ; — it is easy for such to talk of the 
failings and aberrations that occasionally mingled with 
the virtuous achievements by which this great deliverance 
was wrought out, and to illustrate them with a careless 
mixture of Christian and classical allusion ; but it is base 
— base beyond endurance — thus to requite the doings 
and the sufferings of those ancient worthies, who, at the 
expense of their lives, asserted for their posterity that 
^precious freedom, without which all other possessions are 
poor and unsatisfying ! Andrew Thomson. 



204 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

8. Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 

" This is my own, my native land !" 
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd, 
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd, 

From wandering on a foreign strand ! 
If such there breathe, go, mark him well ; 
For him no minstrel-raptures swell : 
High though his titles, proud his name, 
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
The wretch, concentred all in self, 
Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, . 
Unwept, imhonour'd, and unsung. 

Caledonia ! stem and wild. 

Meet nurse for a poetic child ! 

Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, 

Land of the mountain and the flood, 

Land of my sires ! what mortal hand 

Can e'er untie the filial band. 

That knits me to thy rugged strand ! 

Sir Walter Scott. 



SECTION VI. 



MIRACLES. 

Father, Henry, Eliza, 

H, You did not, father, in our last conversation, in- 
form us what part of Christianity was to be the subject 
this evening. 

F, I purposely omitted it, Henry, that I might ask 
you a question. Supposing that certain persons were to 
come, say from Russia, to the court of England, and de- 






SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 205 

clare that they were the bearers of important communica- 
tions from the emperor, do you think the British ministers 
would receive them without farther inquiry ? 

H, No ; I think the king^s ministers wouLl ask what 
proofs they could give that they were sent by him. 

F, Were the messengers to say, " Here are several 
letters and papers that were dictated by the emperor, and 
written by his secretaries, and here is the imperial seal 
affixed to every one of them ;'^ what do you think, Eliza, 
his majesty's ministers would reply to them? 

E, I think, if they knew the imperial seal, they would 
believe that the bearers were ambassadors from bis impe- 
rial majesty. 

F. You are right; and they would forthwith treat 
with them upon the business on account of which they 
had come to the court of England. 

H. But what has all this, father, to do with Christi- 
anity? 

F, The Scriptures, Henry, contain a message from 
God. The prophets and apostles were like secretaries 
to communicate the Divine will to men; and God did 
not send them to make known his will, and leave them 
merely to assert that they were sent by him. The " great 
salvation, at the first begun to be spoken by the Lord, 
was confirmed by them that heard him, God also bearing 
them witness both with signs and wonders^ and with 
divers miracles and gifts of the Holy Ghost,'' 

H, Now I understand the reason of your question. 
Do not you mean to say, that the miracles which God 
enabled his servants to perform formed the Divine seal 
to their mission? — But though I understand how the 
emperor's seal would prove those who showed it to be his 
accredited ambassadors, I do not exactly perceive how a 
miracle proves the authority of the Almighty. 

F, That is because you have not a precise notion of 
what it is that constitutes a miracle. 

H, The wonderful things which our Saviour did were 
miracles, were they not ? 

F, They were ; but an event is not necessarily mirac- 
ulous because it appears wonderful. A miracle is a sea- 



206 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VT. 

sible suspension of the laws of nature ; and, as none but 
the Author of Nature can alter or control the laws which 
he has imposed, a miracle necessarily implies Divine in- 
terference, and may therefore be regarded as the seal of 
the Almighty. 

H. But how can we know when a law of nature is 
suspended ? 

F. Only by being well acquainted with what is the 
ordinary course of nature. If we are ignorant of this, we 
cannot determine whether any particular event is or is 
not miraculous. It was because the Americans were 
ignorant of the laws of the heavenly bodies, that they 
considered the knowledge of Columbus supernatural when 
he predicted an eclipse of the moon ; and in similar cases 
ignorant men wiU always err; but, fortunately for our 
belief in the Scripture-miracles, they were all suspensions 
of laws with which all human beings are familiar. No 
man can have a mementos doubt whether such achieve- 
ments as raising the dead, walking on the sea, healing 
the sick by a word, &c. be suspensions of the course of 
nature. 

E, But could prophets and apostles not have communi- 
cated the messages of God without working miracles ? 

F, They certainly could; but would men have be- 
lieved them unless they could prove that God had sent 
them ? Men might have said, " What signs do you show, 
that we may see and believe?'' When God delivered to 
Moses the message he was to repeat to the Israelites and 
to Pharoah, Moses said, " Behold they will not believe 
me, for they will say. The Lord hath not appeared unto 
thee.'' The force of this excuse was immediately admit- 
ted, and Moses was directed, as a proof of his commis- 
sion, to exhibit miraculous signs. Our Saviour, in like 
manner, rested his pretensions exclusively on his miracles : 
" If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not." 

E, In reading the history of the Israelites, I have 
often been surprised at their regardlessness of the works 
of Christ. 

F. Their conduct shows the infidel state of the hu- 
man heart. Christ's bitterest enemies confessed that he 



SECT. VI. ^A COURSE OF READING. 207 

did many miracles, but they wickedly ascribed them to 
the power of Satan, though the very nature of his mira- 
cles showed the absurdity of such a base insinuation. 
There were some indeed that said with Nicodemus, ^' We 
know that thou art a teacher come from God, for no man 
can do these miracles which thou dost, except God be 
with him.^' But as a nation they would not receive him. 

H. Oh! I think if I had seen Jesus Christ, and the 
miracles which he did, I would have loved him as my 
Saviour. 

F. Ah ! Heniy, if you do not love him, and trust in 
him as he is described in his word, there is reason to fear, 
that though you had seen him, and beheld all the mighty 
works which he did, you would not have loved him. We 
read of some who never saw him, and yet esteemed him 
precious. We have the same advantages which they had, 
and if we believe not in him as he is revealed in the 
gospel of his grace, we would not be persuaded though 
we had been among the number of his hearers, or the 
subjects of his healing power. 



EFFECTS OF CALORIC. 

The principal phenomena which accompany the passage 
of caloric into substances, are expansion, liquefaction, and 
vaporization. The phenomena that attend its escape from 
them, viz. contraction, solidification of fluids, and conden- 
sation of vapour, are merely the converse of these. 

1. Expansion, — The effect of caloric is directly con- 
trary to that of the attraction of cohesion, the one draw- 
ing the particles together, the other driving them asun- 
der ; and from the continual struggle between these two 
forces result all the various degrees of consistence which 
bodies assume. Solids vary in density from that of gold 
to that of a thin jelly; liquids, from the consistence of 
melted glass, or melted metals, to that of ether, which is 
the lightest of all liquids; and the different aeriform 
fluids are susceptible of no less variety in their degrees 
of density. Nay more, every individual body admits of 



208 A COURSE OF READING* SECT. VI. 

different degrees of consistence. If a piece of iron, wliich, 
in its ordinary state, exactly fits a ring, be heated redhot, 
its dimensions will be so much increased by the caloric 
that has penetrated into it, that it will be much too large 
for the ring. Different bodies dilate too in very different 
proportions. This is the case with metals, and other 
kinds of solid bodies, and still more so with liquids. 

It is in consequence of the great susceptibility of dila- 
tation in liquids, that they are used for filling thermo- 
metrical tubes. A thermometer consists of a tube, with 
a bulb containing a fluid, whose degrees of dilatation are 
indicated by a scale to which the tube is fixed. The fluid 
generally used for this purpose is mercury, because its 
dilatations and contractions are found to correspond more 
exactly to the additions and subtractions of caloric than 
those of any other fluid. The degree on the scale that 
indicates the boiling point simply means, that when the 
mercury is sufficiently dilated to rise to this point, the 
heat is such, that water exposed to the same temperature 
will boil ; and when the fluid is so much condensed as to 
sink to the freezing-point, we are to understand that water 
will freeze at that temperature. The extreme points of 
the scale are not the same in all thermometers, nor are the 
degrees always divided in the same manner. Fahrenheit's 
scale, which is preferred by the English, is divided into 212 
degrees, in which 32° corresponds with the freezing-point, 
and 212° with the point of boiling water. Reaumur's, 
which is preferred by the French, is divided only into 80 
degrees, in which 0° denotes the freezing-point, and 80° 
that of boiling water. — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 20.) 

As liquids expand more readily than solids, so aeriform 
fluids are more expansible than liquids ; and one circum- 
stance respecting their dilatation deserves to be particu- 
larly noticed — they all undergo the same degree of ex- 
pansion from equal augmentations of temperature, though 
they vary in density more than either liquids or solids. 
This uniformity of expansibility, extraordinary as it may 
appear, is readily accounted for; for if bodies owe their 
different susceptibilities of expansion to their various de- 
grees of attraction of cohesion, no such difference can be 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 209 

expected in permanently elastic fluids, since in these the 
attraction of cohesion does not exist, their particles being, 
on the contrary, possessed of an elastic or repulsive power ; 
they will therefore all be equally expanded by equal de- 
grees of caloric. 

2, Liquefaction. — All bodies are either solid, liquid, 
or gaseous ; and the form they assume depends upon the 
relative force of cohesion and caloric. As it is easy to 
increase or diminish the quantity of caloric in any sub- 
stance, it follows that the form of bodies may be made to 
vary at pleasure; that is, by a sufficiently intense heat 
every solid may be converted into a fluid, and every fluid 
into the aeriform state. This inference is justified by 
experience so far that it may safely be considered a 
general law. The converse ought also to be true ; and, 
accordingly, various gases have been condensed, by cold 
and pressure, into liquids, and all liquids, except alcohol, 
have been solidified. 

The most important circumstance relative to liquefac- 
tion is the discovery of Dr Black, that a large quantity 
of caloric disappears, or becomes insensible to the ther- 
mometer, during the process. If ice or snow of a tem- 
perature below the freezing-point be placed above a lamp, 
it will indicate a gradual rise of temperature till it arrive 
at 32° and begin to melt (this may be ascertained by 
placing a thermometer in it), but no farther rise will take 
place during the process of liquefaction. It will remain 
stationary at 32°, notwithstanding that it is all along re- 
ceiving accessions of heat from the lamp, till the process 
is completed ; and all the caloric which is added will be- 
come insensible. The explanation which Dr Black gave 
of these phenomena constitutes what is called his doc- 
trine of latent heat He considered that caloric loses its 
property of acting on the thermometer, in consequence of 
combining chemically with the solid substance, and that 
the liquefaction is the result of this combination.* 



* As so much heat disappears during liquefaction, it follows that 
caloric must be evolved when a liquid passes into a solid. This 

k2 



210 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

3. Vaporization. — Caloric appears to be tlie cause of 
vaporization as well as of liquefaction, and it is a general 
opinion that a sufficiently intense heat would convert 
every liquid and solid into vapour, though a considerable 
number of bodies resist the strongest heat of our furnaces 
without vaporizing. Some solids, as arsenic and sal-am- 
moniac, pass at once into vapour without being liquefied ; 
but most of them become liquid before assuming the 
elastic condition. Vaporization is conveniently studied 
under two heads, Ebullition or Boiling, and Evaporation. 
In the first, the production of vapour is so rapid that its 
escape gives rise to a visible commotion in the liquid ; in 
the second it passes off quietly and insensibly. 

1. The temperature at which vapour rises with suffi- 
cient freedom for causing the phenomena of ebullition 
is called the boiling-point. The heat requisite for this 
effect varies with the nature of the fluid. Thus, sulphuric 
ether boils at 96° F., alcohol at 173°, and pure water 
at 212°; while oil of turpentine must be raised to 316°, 
and mercury to 660°, before either exhibits marks of 
ebullition. Even the boiling-point of the same liquid is 
liable to be affected by several circumstances. The na- 
ture of the vessel has some influence upon it. Thus, 
pure water boils precisely at 212° in a metallic vessel, and 
at 214° in one of glass. It is likewise affected by the 
presence of foreign particles. But the circumstance 
which has the greatest influence is variation of pressure. 
All bodies upon the earth are constantly exposed to con- 
siderable pressure ; for the atmosphere itself presses with 
a force equivalent to a weight of 15 pounds on every 
square inch of surface. Liquids are exposed to this pres- 
sure as well as solids, and their tendency to take the form 



may easily be proved. The temperature of water in the act of freez- 
ing never falls below 32° F., though it be exposed to an atmosphere 
in which the thermometer is at zero. It is obvious that the water can 
preserve its temperature in a medium so much colder than itself, only 
by the caloric which it loses being instantly supplied; and it is no 
less clear that the only source of supply is the caloric that was insen- 
sible in the fluid. 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 211 

of vapour is very much counteracted by it. In fact, they 
cannot enter into ebullition at all till their particles have 
acquired such an elastic force as enables them to over- 
come the pressure upon their surfaces ; that is, till they 
press against the atmosphere with the same force as the 
atmosphere against them. The only time at which the 
pressure of the atmosphere is equal to a weight of 15 
pounds on every square inch of surface, is when the ba- 
rometer stands at 30 inches, and then only does water boil 
at 212° F. If the pressure be less, that is, if the ba- 
rometer fall below 30 inches, then the boiling-point of 
water, and every other liquid, will be lower than usual ; 
or, if the barometer rise above 30 inches, the tempera- 
ture of ebullition will be proportionally increased. This 
is the reason why water boils at a lower temperature on 
the top of a hill than in the valley beneath it ; for as the 
column of air diminishes in length as we ascend, its 
pressure must likewise suffer a proportional diminution. 
The ratio between the depression of the boiling-point and 
the diminution of the atmospherical pressure is so exact, 
that it has been proposed as a method for determining the 
heights of mountains. An elevation of 530 feet makes 
a diminution of one degree of Fahrenheit. The influence 
of the atmosphere over the point of ebuUition is best 
shown by removing its pressure altogether. Fluids boil 
in vacuo at a temperature 140 degrees lower than in the 
open air. Thus water boils at 72° F., alcohol at 33°, and 
ether at — 44°. This proves that a liquid is not necessa- 
rily hot because it boils.* 



* Water cannot be heated under common circumstances beyond 
212° F., because it then acquires such an expansive force as enables 
it to overcome the atmospheric pressure, and to fly off in the form of 
vapour. But if subjected to sufficient pressure, it may be heated to 
any extent without boiling. This is done by heating water while 
confined in a strong copper vessel, called Papin's Digester. A large 
quantity of vapour collects above the water, which checks the ebulli- 
tion by the pressure it exerts upon the surface of the liquid. There 
is no limit to which water may not be heated in this way, provided 
the vessel is strong enough to confine the vapour ; but the expansive 
force of steam imder these circumstances is so enormous as to over- 



212 A COURSE OF READING. SECT, VI. 

The formation of vapour is attended, like liquefaction, 
with a loss of sensible caloric. This is proved hy the 
well-known fact, that the temperature of steam is pre- 
cisely the same as that of the boiling water from which 
it rises; so that all the caloric which enters into the 
liquid is solely employed in converting a portion of it into 
vapour, without affecting the temperature of either in 
the slightest degree, provided the latter is permitted to 
escape with freedom. The caloric which then becomes 
latent is again set free when the vapour is condensed into 
water. 

2. Evaporation takes place at common temperatures, 



come the greatest resistance. In estimating the power of steam, it 
should be remembered that vapour, if separated from the liquid which 
produced it, does not possess a greater elasticity than an equal quan- 
tity of air. If, for example, the digester was full of steam at 212°, 
no water in the liquid state being present, it may be heated to any 
degree, even to redness, without danger of bursting. But if water be 
present, then each addition of caloric causes a fresh portion of steam 
to rise, which adds its own elastic force to that of the vapour previ- 
ously existing; and in consequence an excessive pressure is soon 
exerted against the inside of the vessel. The elasticity of steam is 
employed as a moving power in the steam-engine, the construction of 
which depends on two properties of steam, namely, the expansive 
force communicated to it by caloric, and its ready conversion into wa- 
ter by cold. The effect of both these properties is well shown by a 
little instrument devised by Dr Wollaston. It consists of a cylindri- 
cal glass tube, six inches long, nearly an inch wide, and blown out 
into a little ball at one end. A piston is accurately fitted to the cy- 
linder, so as to move up and down the tube with freedom. When the 
piston is at the bottom of the tube, it is forced up by causing a por- 
tion of water, previously placed in the ball, to boil, by means of a 
spirit-lamp. On dipping the ball into cold water, the steam which 
occupies the cylinder is suddenly condensed, and the piston is forced 
down by the pressure of the air above it. By the alternate applica- 
tion of heat and cold, the same movements are reproduced, and may 
be repeated for any length of time. The moving power of the steam 
engine is the same as in this apparatus. The only essential differ- 
ence between them is in the mode of condensing the steam. In the 
steam-engine, the steam is condensed in a separate vessel, where there 
is a regular supply of cold water for the purpose. By this contrivance, 
which constitutes the great improvement of Watt, the temperature of 
the cylinder never falls below 212°. 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 213 

as may be proved by exposing water in a shallow vessel 
to the air for a few days, when it will gradually diminish, 
and at last disappear entirely. Most fluids, if not all of 
them, are susceptible of . this gradual dissipation; audit 
may also be observed in some solids, as, for example, in 
camphor. Evaporation is much more rapid in some fluids 
than in others, and it is always foimd that those liquids 
whose boiling-point is lowest, evaporate with the greatest 
rapidity. 

The chief cu'cumstances that influence this process are 
extent of surface, and the state of the air as to tempera- 
tr^re, diyness, stiUness, and density. The eflect of heat 
in promoting it may easily be shown by putting an equal 
quantity of water into two saucers, one of which is placed 
in a warm the other in a cold situation. The former will 
be quite dry before the latter, has suffered an appreciable 
diminution. When water is covered by a stratum of 
dry air, the evaporation is rapid even when its tempera- 
ture is low ; whereas it goes on very tardily if the at- 
mosphere contains much vapour, even though the air be 
very warm. It is far slower in still air than in a current, 
because the air immediately in contact with the water soon 
becomes moist, and thus puts a check to it. Pressure 
too has a remarkable influence over it. This is easily 
proved by placing ether in the vacuum of an air-pump, 
when vapour rises so abundantly as to produce ebulli- 
tion.* 

The presence of watery vapour in the atmosphere is 



* As a large quantity of caloric passes from a sensible to an in- 
sensible state during the formation of vapour, it follows that cold 
should be generated by evaporation. Water placed under the ex- 
hausted receiver of an air-pump evaporates \vith great rapidity, and 
so much cold is generated as would freeze the water, did the vapour 
continue to rise for some time with the same velocity. But the vapour 
itself soon fills the vacuum, and retards the evaporation by pressing 
upon the surface of the water. This difficulty may be avoided by 
putting under the receiver a substance, such as sulphuric acid, which 
has the property of absorbing watery vapour, and consequently of re- 
moving it as quickly as it forms. Such is the principle of Sir John 
Leslie's method for freezing water by its own evaporation. 



214 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

owing to evaporation. All the accumulations of water 
upon the surface of the earth are subjected by its means 
to a natural distillation ; the impurities with which they 
are impregnated remain behind, while the pure vapour 
ascends into the air, gives rise to a multitude of meteoro- 
logical phenomena, and after a time descends again upon 
the earth as rain. And as evaporation goes on to a cer- 
tain extent, even at low temperatures, it is probable that 
the atmosphere is never absolutely free of vapour. 

Abridged from Turner's Elements of Chemistry, 



THE SAXON AND THE GAEL. — The Interview, 

So toilsome was the road to trace, 

The guide, abating of his pace. 

Led slowly through the pass's jaws. 

And ask'd Fitz-James, by what strange cause 

He sought these wilds, traversed by few. 

Without a pass from Roderick Dhu ? 

" Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, 
Hangs in my belt, and by my side : 
Yet, sooth to tell," the Saxon said, 
" I dreamt not now to claim its aid. 
When here, but three days since, I came, 
Bewildered in pursuit of game, 
All seem'd as peaceful and as still 
As the mist slumbering on yon hill ; 
Thy dangerous Chief was then afar. 
Nor soon expected back from war." — 
" But, stranger, peaceful since you came, 
Bewilder'd in the mountain game, 
Whence the bold boast by which you show 
Vich- Alpine's vow'd and mortal foe?" — 
" Warrior, but yestermorn, 1 knew 
Nought of thy chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 
Save as an outlaw'd desperate man, 
The chief of a rebellious clan, 
Who, in i\iQ Regent's court and sight, 
With ruffian dagger stabb'd a knight; 
Yet this alone might from his part 
Sever each true and loyal heart." 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 215 

Wrotlifiil at such arraignment foul, 
Dark lower'd the clansman's sable scowl : 
A space he paused, then sternly said, 
" And heardst thou why he drew his blade ? 
Heardst thou that shameful word and blow 
Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe ? 
What reck'd the chieftain if he stood 
On Highland heath, or Holy-Rood ? 
He rights such wrong where it is given. 
If it were in the court of Heaven." — 
" But then, thy chieftain's robber life ! — 
Winning mean prey by causeless strife : 
Wrenching from ruin'd Lowland swain 
His herds and harvests rear'd in vain. — 
Methinks a soul like thine should scorn 
The spoils from such foul foray borne." 

" Saxon, from yonder mountain high, 
I mark'd thee send delighted eye, 
Far to the south and east, where lay, 
Extended in succession gay. 
Deep waving fields and pastures green, 
With gentle slopes and groves between : — 
These fertile plains, that soften'd vale, 
Were once the birthright of the Gael ; 
The stranger came with iron hand. 
And from our fathers reft the land. 
Where dwell we now ! See, rudely swell 
Crag ove^* crag, and fell o'er fell. 
Ask we this savage hill we tread 
For fatten'd steer or household bread ; 
Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, 
And well the mountain might reply, — 
* To you, as to your sires of yore, 
Belong the target and claymore ; 
I give you shelter in my breast. 
Your own good blades must win the rest ! 
Pent in this fortress of the North, 
Thinkst thou we will not sally forth 
To spoil the spoiler as we may, 
And from the robber rend the prey ? 
Ay, — while upon yon fertOe plain 
The Saxon rears one shock of grain ; 



216 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VI. 

While, of ten thousand flocks, their strays 

But one along yon river's maze, — 

The Gael, of plain and river heir, 

Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share." 

" Well, let it pass ; nor will I now 

Fresh cause of enmity avow. 

To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow. 

Enough, I am by promise tied 

To match me with this man of pride : 

Twice have I sought Clan- Alpine's glen 

In peace ; but when I come agen, 

I come with banner, brand, and bow, 

As leader seeks his mortal foe ; 

For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower, 

Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, 

As I, until before me stand 

This rebel Chieftain and his band ! " 

" Have, then, thy wish ! " — He whistled shrill. 

And he was answer'd from the hill ; 

Wild as the scream of the curlew, 

From crag to crag the signal flew. 

Instant, through copse and heath, arose 

Bonnets, and spears, and bended bows ; 

On right, on left, above, below. 

Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; 

From shingles gray then* lances start. 

The bracken-bush sends forth the dart, 

The rushes and the willow- wand 

Are bristling into axe and brand. 

And every tuft of broom gives life 

To plaided warrior arm'd for strife. 

That whistle garrison'd the glen 

At once with full five hundred men, 

As if the yawning hill to heaven 

A subterranean host had given. 

Watching their leader's beck and ^vill, 

All silent there they stood and still, 

Like the loose crags, whose threatening mass 

Lay tottermg o'er the hollow pass, 

As if an infant's touch could urge 

Their headlong passage down the verge. 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 217 

The Mountaineer cast glance of pride 

Along Benledi's living side, 

Then fix'd his eye and sable brow 

Full on Fitz- James — " How sayst thou now? 

These are Clan- Alpine's warriors true ; 

And, Saxon, — I am Roderick Dhu ! " 

Fitz- James was brave : — though to his heart 
The life-blood thrill'd with sudden start, 
He mann'd himself with dauntless air^ 
Return'd the Chief his haughty stare. 
His back against a rock he bore, 
And firmly placed his foot before : — 
" Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly 
From its firm base as soon as I." 
Sir Roderick mark'd — and in his eyes 
Respect was mingled with surprise, 
And the stern joy which warriors feel 
In foemen worthy of their steel. 
Short space he stood — then waved his hand : 
Down sunk the disappearing band : 
Each warrior vanish'd where he stood, 
In broom or bracken, heath or wood ; 
It seem'd as if then- mother Earth 
Had swallow'd up her warlike birth. 
The wind's last breath had toss'd in air 
Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair, — 
The next but swept a lone hill-side. 
Where heath and fern were waving wide. 

Fitz-James look'd round — yet scarce believed 

The witness that his sight received ; 

Sh* Roderick in suspense he eyed, 

And to his look the Chief replied, — 

" Fear nought — nay, that I need not say — 

But — doubt not aught from mine array. 

Thou art my guest : — I pledged my word 

As far as Coilantogle ford : 

Nor would I call a clansman's brand 

For aid against one valiant hand. 

Though on our strife lay every vale 

Rent by the Saxon froA the Gael. 

So move we on : I only meant 

To show the reed on which you leant, 



218 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VI. 

Deeming this path you might pursue 
Without a pass from Eoderick Dhu." 

Sir Walter Scott — Lady of the Lake, 



THE SAXON AND THE GAEL CONTINUED. 

The Combat 

The Chief in silence strode before, 

And reach'd that torrent's sounding shore, 

Which, daughter of three mighty lakes. 

From Yennacher in silver breaks. 

Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 

On Bochastle the mouldering lines. 

Where Eome, the Empress of the World, 

Of yore her eagle-wings unfurl'd. 

And here his course the Chieftain staid. 

Threw down his target and his plaid, 

And to the Lowland warrior said • — 

'' Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, 

Vich- Alpine has discharged his trust, 

This murderous chief, this ruthless man, 

This head of a rebellious clan. 

Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward. 

Far past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard. 

Now man to man, and steel to steel, 

A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. 

See, here, all vantageless I stand, 

Arm'd, like thyself, with single braiid : 

For this is CoHantogle ford. 

And thou must keep thee with thy sword." — 

The Saxon paused : — ** I ne'er delay'd. 
When foeman bade me draw my blade ; 
Nay more, brave Chief, I vow'd thy death : 
Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, 
And my deep debt for life preserved, 
A better meed have well deserved : 
Can nought but blood our feud atone ? 
Are there no means? " — " No, stranger, none ! 
And here, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — 
The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 219 

For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred 
Between the living and the dead ; 
* Who spills the foremost foeman's life, 
His party conquers in the strife.' " — 
*^ Then, by my word/' the Saxon said, 
" The riddle is already read. 
Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — 
There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. 
Thus Fate has solved her prophecy, 
Then yield to Fate, and not to me. 
To James, at Stu'ling, let us go, 
Wlien, if thou wilt be still his foe, 
Or if the King shall not agree 
To grant thee grace and favour free, 
I plight mine honour, oath, and word, 
That, to thy native strengths restored. 
With each advantage shalt thou stand. 
That aids thee now to guard thy land." 

Dark lightning flash'd from Roderick's eye — 
" Soars thy presumption then so high, 
Because a wretched kern ye slew, 
Homage to name to Roderick Dhu ? 
He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! 
Thou addst but fuel to my hate : — 
My clansman's blood demands revenge. 
Not yet prepared for fight ? — I change 
My thought, and hold thy valour light 
As that of some vain carpet-knight, 
Who ill deserves my courteous care. 
And whose best boast is but to wear 
A braid of his fair lady's hair." 
— " I thank thee, Roderick, for the word ! 
It nerves my heart, and steels my sword ; 
For I have sworn this braid to stain 
In the best blood that warms thy vein. 
Now, truce, farewell ! and, ruth, begone ! 
Yet think not that by thee alone. 
Proud Chief! can courtesy be shown; 
Though not from copse, pr heath, or cairn, 
Start at my whistle clansmen stem, 
Of this small horn one feeble blast 
Would fearful odds against thee cast. 



220 A COURSE OF READINa. SECT. VI. 

But fear not — doubt not — ^which thou wilt — 
We try this quarrel hilt to hilt." 
Then each at once his falchion drew, 
Each on the ground his scabbard threw, 
Each look'd to sun, and stream, and plain, 
As what they ne'er might see again ; 
Then foot, and point, and eye opposed, 
In dubious strife they darkly closed. 
Ill fared it then mth Roderick Dhu, 
That on the field his targe he threw. 
Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide 
Had death so often dash'd aside ; 
For, train'd abroad his arms to wield, 
Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. 
He practised every pass and ward, 
To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard ; 
While less expert, though stronger far, 
The G-ael maintained unequal war. 
Three times in closing strife they stood. 
And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood : 
No stinted di'aught, no scanty tide, 
The gushing flood the tartans dyed. 
Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, 
And shower' d his blows like wintry rain ; 
And, as firm rock or castle roof, 
Against the winter-shower is proof, 
The foe, invulnerable still, 
Foil'd his wild rage by steady skiU ; 
Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand 
Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand. 
And, backward borne upon the lea, 
Brought the proud Chieftain to liis knee. 

" Now, yield thee, or " — the Saxon said, 

" Thy heart's blood. Chieftain, dyes my blade ! " — 

" Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy ! 

Let recreant yield, who fears to die." 

— Like adder darting from his coil. 

Like wolf that dashes through the toil, 

Like mountain- cat who guards her young, 

Full at Fitz-James's throat he sprung ; 

Received, but reck'd not of a wound, 

And lock'd his arms his foeman round. — 



SECT. Vr. A COURSE OF READING. 221 

Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own ! 

No maiden's hand is round thee thrown ! 

That desperate grasp thy frame might feel, 

Through bars of brass and triple steel ! — 

They tug, they strain ! down, down they go, 

The Gael above, Fitz- James below. 

The Chieftain's gripe his throat compress'd ; 

His knee was planted in his breast ; 

His clotted locks he backward threw, 

Across his brow his hand he drew, 

From blood and mist to clear his sight, 

Then gleam'd aloft his dagger bright ! 

— But hate and fury ill supplied 

The stream of life's exhausted tide ; 

And all too late the advantage came, 

To turn the odds of deadly game ; 

For, while the dagger gleam'd on high, 

Reel'd soul and sense, reel'd brain and eye. 

Down came the blow ! but in the heath 

The erring blade found bloodless sheath. 

The struggling foe may now unclasp 

The fainting chief's relaxing grasp ; 

Un wounded from the dreadful close, 

But breathless all, Fitz- James arose. Id, 



VEGETABLE CLOTHING. FLAX, HEMP, AND COTTON. 

The vegetable matters employed for clothing are chiefly 
of two kinds ; the fibres of plants, and the downy sub- 
stance in which the seeds are sometimes embedded. The 
fibrous or stringy texture is very prevalent in vegetables. 
We see it in the bark and wood of trees, in the stalks of 
green or herbaceous plants, and in the leaves of all. The 
longer parallel fibres are held together by shorter cross 
ones, forming a net- work, cemented by a glutinous mat- 
ter. The ingenious, though but half- civilized people of 
Otaheite, have discovered a method of making tolerable 
cloth of the inner bark of certain trees, by steeping it in 
water, and then beating it with a wooden mallet. But 
the more artful way of employing vegetable fibres con- 
sists in an entire separation of them from the matter 



222 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI^ 

that held them together, reducing them to clean loose 
bundles, then twisting them into threads, and lastly in- 
terweaving them. 

The plants selected in Europe for the purpose of mak- 
ing thread and cloth from their fibres are chiefly flax and 
hemp. Flax (in Latin linuni^ whence the word linen) is 
an annual plant, rising on a single stalk to a moderate 
height, and crowned with handsome blue flowers, suc- 
ceeded by globular seed-vessels. It is sufiered to grow 
till the seeds are ripe, and is then plucked up by the 
hand, laid in little bundles to dry, deprived of its seed- 
vessels, and then put into pits of water to rot. The pur- 
pose of this part of the process is to dissolve a mucilagi- 
nous matter, which holds the fibres together ; and it is the 
most disagreeable part of the management of flax, as the 
smell arising from it while rotting is extremely offensive, 
and prejudicial to the health. When the flax has lain 
long enough, it is taken out, washed, dried, then beaten 
with mallets, combed, and by various other operations so 
prepared, that the long fibres are got by themselves, clean 
and loose, in which state they are called ^aa;; the shorter 
and coarser fibres, separated by the comb, are called tow. 
The operation of spinning, which it next undergoes, con- 
sists in drawing out, with the fingers, several of the fibres 
together, and twisting them. The product of spinning 
is thread, which is more or less fine according to the dex- 
terity of the spinner and the nature of the material. 
Some thread closer twisted than the rest is kept for 
needlework, but the greater part is made up in bundles, 
called linen-yarn, and committed to the weaver. 

Weaving may be regarded as a finer kind of matting. 
To perform it, the threads, which form the length of a 
piece of cloth, are first disposed in order, and strained by 
weights to a proper tightness ; this is called the warp. 
These threads are divided by an instrument called a reed, 
into two sets, each composed of every other thread ; and 
while, by the working of a treadle, each set is thrown 
alternately up and down, the cross-threads, called the woof 
or weft^ are inserted between them, by means of a little 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 223 

instrument, sharp at both ends, called a shuttle, which is 
briskly shot from one of the weaver's hands to the other, 
placed on the opposite sides of the work, and carries the 
thread with it. This is the simplest kind of weaving; 
but numberless are the additional contrivances made for 
all the curious works wrought in the loom which have 
been the objects of human ingenuity for many ages. 

The linen fabrics are of all degrees of fineness, from 
coarse sheeting to cambric almost emulating a spider's 
web. They are brought to that extreme whiteness, 
which we so much admire, by the process of bleaching. 
This consists in their exposure to the action of the sun 
and air, with frequent watering, and often with the, help 
of some acid liquor, which quickens the operation. The 
value that can be given to a raw material by manufactur- 
ing, is in few instances more strikingly exemplified than 
in the conversion of flax into Brussels lace, some of which 
sells for several guineas a-yard. Indeed, if you look at 
a plant of flax growing, and then at the frill of your shirt, 
you cannot fail to be struck with admiration of human 
skill and industry. 



Hemp is a much taller and stronger plant than flax. 
It has a square rough stalk, rising to the height of ^yq 
or six feet, and sending off branches. Its fibrous part 
consists in the bark surrounding the main stalk. Hemp 
undergoes the same general preparation as flax before it 
is consigned to the weaver ; but, being of a stronger and 
coarser texture, it requires more labour to get the fine 
fibres separate from the rest. Hence it is commonly em- 
ployed in the more homely manufactures ; it is the prin- 
cipal material of sail-cloth, a fabric, the strength of which 
is required to be proportional to the violence it has to 
undergo from storms and tempests ; and it is equally im- 
portant to navigation, from its use in making cordage; 
for which purpose it is taken nearly in a raw state, and 
twisted into coarse twine, which is afterwards united to 
make rope. 



224 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. YL 

Whilst the inhabitant of the northern and temperate 
regions is obliged to exercise much labour and contriv- 
ance in procuring his vegetable clothing from the stalks 
of plants, the native of the fruitful south enjoys the ben- 
efit of a material presented in greater abundance, and 
in a state requiring much less preparation before it is 
fitted for the manufacturer. This is cotton, a white 
woolly substance contained in the seed-pod of a family of 
plants, some of which are annual and herbaceous, others 
perennial and shrubby. The pods, when ripe, open of 
themselves, and the cotton is plucked out of them by the 
fingers, with the seeds sticking to it ; these are separated 
by means of mills, which pull out and loosen the down. 
It is then in a state fit to be sent from the planter to the 
manufacturer. The farther operations it undergoes are 
picking, carding, and roving, which last brings ofiF the 
fibres longitudinally in a continued loose line ; these are 
next twisted and drawn out, so as to make thread or yarn, 
and the material is then consigned to the weaver. The 
vast extension of the cotton manufacture in this country 
has caused these preparatory operations to be performed 
by a system of complex machinery, the invention of the 
late Sir Richard Arkwright. 

The fabrics made from cotton are probably more various 
and numerous than from any other material. They com- 
prehend stuffs of all degrees of fineness, from the trans- 
parent muslin of a robe, or a turban, to the thick plush 
and warm bed-quilt. The commerce of Great Britain 
has, of late years, been peculiarly indebted to the cotton 
manufacture, which produces clothing for people of all 
ranks, from Russia to Guinea, and unites elegance with 
cheapness in an unusual degree. Great quantities of 
the native fabrics of the east are also imported into 
Europe. Some of these, from excellence in the material 
and incomparable manual dexterity and patience in the 
workmen, though made with very simple machinery, 
equal in fineness and beauty anything of European man- 
ufacture. The natives are said to perform then finest 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 225 

work in moist cool places under ground, which makes the 
cotton hold together so as to draw out to the thinnest 
threads ; and the soft and delicate fingers of the Indian 
women give them the sense of feeling to a degree of 
nicety pjucIi beyond that of Europeans. 

It is probable that cotton at present clothes more 
people in the world than any other substance. Its pe- 
culiar advantage, besides cheapness, is the union of 
warmth with lightness, whence it is fitted for a great 
variety of climates. To the hot it is better adapted than 
linen, on account of its absorbing quality, which keeps 
the skin dry and comfortable. The woolliness of cotton 
gives a kind of nap to the cloth made of it, which renders 
it soft to the touch, but apt to attract dust. In the fine 
muslins this is burned off, by passing them between heated 
cylinders with such velocity as not to take fire, which, 
considering the combustibility of cotton, must be a very 
nice operation. Dr Aikin. 



NEGRO SLAVERY. 

I WOULD not have a slave to till my ground, 
To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, 
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth 
That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd. 
No : dear as freedom is, and in my heart's 
Just estimation prized above all price, 
I had much rather be myself the slave, 
And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him. 
We have no slaves at home — then why abroad ? 
And they themselves, once ferried o'er the wave 
That parts us, are emancipate and loosed. 
Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs 
Receive our air, that moment they are free ; 
They touch our country, and their shackles fall. 
That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud 
And jealous of the blessing^. Spread it then, 
And let it circulate through every vein 
Of all your empire ; that, where Britain's power 
Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too. Cowper. 

L 



226 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 



'TWAS night : — ^his babes around him lay at rest, 
Their mother slumber'd on their father's breast : 
A yell of murder rang around their bed ; 
They woke ; their cottage blazed ; the victims fled ; 
Forth sprang the ambush' d ruffians on their prey, 
They caught, they boimd, they drove them far away : 
The white man bought them at the mart of blood ; 
In pestilential barks they cross'd the flood ; 
Then were the wretched ones asunder torn, 
To distant isles, to separate bondage borne. 
Denied, though sought with tears, the sad relief 
That misery loves, — the fellowship of grief. 

Lives there a savage ruder than the slave ? 
— Cruel as death, insatiate as the grave. 
False as the winds that round his vessel blow, 
Eemorseless as the gulf that yawns below, 
Is he who toils upon the wafting flood, 
A Christian broker in the trade of blood ; 
Boisterous in speech, in action prompt and bold, 
He buys, he sells, — he steals, he kills, for gold. 
At noon, when sky and ocean, calm and clear. 
Bend round his bark, one blue unbroken sphere ; 
When dancing dolphins sparkle through the brine, 
And sunbeam-circles o'er the waters shine ; 
He sees no beauty in the heaven serene. 
No soul-enchanting sweetness in the scene, 
But, darkly scowling at the glorious day. 
Curses the winds that loiter on their way. 
When swoln with hurricanes the billows rise. 
To meet the lightning midway from the skies ; 
When from the unburthen'd hold his shrieking slaves 
Are cast at midnight to the hungry waves ; 
Not for his victims strangled in the deeps, 
Not for his crimes the harden'd pirate weeps. 
But, grimly smiling, when the storm is o'er. 
Counts his sure gains, and hurries back for more. 

MONTGOMEiRY. 



What, though thou bask in fortune's smiles, 
Proud mistress of a thousand isles, 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 227 

On the subject sea, like a halcyon's nest, 

Yet a cloud is gathermg in the west. 

A groan comes o'er the western wave ; 

It is the groan of the tortured slave ; 

He knows no Heaven, so he prays to thee, 

Thou stay of the wretched, thou land of the free ! 

Yet the gi'oan and the prayer ascend on high, 
And they pierce the vaults of the arched sky ; 
And the ear of Him, who heareth prayer, 
Is not shut to the voice of the slave's despair. 
His vengeance tarries — His mercy still 
Gives thee the choice to turn from ill ; 
While the plague and the sword impatient wait 
For the word of Him — whose wiU is fate. 

That word went forth, — and the blood-bought gold 
FeU from the Spaniard's faintmg hold ; 
And the Frenchman sunk to his Haytian gi-ave, 
Beneath the shout of the conquering slave. 
On them, and for thee, was the judgment sent, 
Thou queen of the islands, Repent — Repent — 
Be the strength of thine arm extended to save — 
Break thou the bonds of the burden'd slave ! 

And break the heavier bonds of his soul — 

Bid the dark clouds of error asunder roll ; 

And pour upon the benighted eye 

The light of the daysprmg from on liigh ; 

Give, as to thee was freely given, 

Thy richest of blessings, the pure word from Heaven ; 

Tell the slave who shrunk at a master's nod, 

" Be the equal of man, and the servant of God." 

C. H. T. 



THE PROCESS OF NUTRITION. 



The mode in which the animal body is nourished is well 
deserving of your attentipm There are two sets of or- 
gans devoted to this object, those which perform the 
functions of circulation and respiration, and those which 
are concerned in the preparation of the food, and in nu- 



228 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

tritlon. The former are situated in a cavity called the 
chest or thorax ; the latter in a cavity beneath, called the 
cavity of the abdomen. The chest is occupied principally 
by the heart and the lungs ; the abdomen by the stom- 
ach, the intestines, the liver, the spleen, and the pan- 
creas or sweetbread. These two cavities or bags are 
separated by a partition called the diaphragm or midriff, 
which is partly of a fleshy and partly of a membranous 
nature, and readily gives way, by its laxity, to the alter- 
nate expansion and contraction of the chest in the action 
of breathing, to which its muscular power eminently con- 
tributes. — {See Illustrations J Fig, 21.) 

The first action to which the food is subject is masti- 
cation or chewing ; and for this purpose, man and most 
other animals are provided with teeth, which differ in 
their nature, according to the habits of the animal, and 
the particular description of food which is intended to 
nourish it. During the action of chewing, the food is 
mixed with the saliva or spittle ; it is then carried back- 
wards, and thrown into the pharynx^ which is a sort of 
pouch in the back part of the mouth ; from which it de- 
scends, partly by its own weight and partly by the action 
of the muscles of the pharynx, into the oesophagus or 
gullet^ at the extremity of which is the stomachy into 
which the food is deposited. 

The stomach in man is a membranous bag, not very 
unlike the shape of the bagpipe, lying across the body, 
and having two openings ; the upper towards the left side, 
by which it receives food from the gullet, called the car- 
dia, from its supposed sympathy with the heart ; and the 
lower, on the right side, called the pylorus, by which the 
food passes on to the intestines. Between the coats of 
the stomach are various small glands, which secrete, and 
pour into it, a fluid called gastric juice, which dissolves 
|;he substances taken into the stomach, converts them into 
a uniform, grayish, pulpy mass, called chyme^ and thus 
fits them for becoming nourishment. When the food has 
undergone, to a sufficient extent, the change which it is 
meant to suffer in the stomach, an action of the muscu- 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 229 

lar coats of this organ takes place, by means of which it 
is passed through the pylorus, or lower orifice, into the 
intestines. But care is taken that it does not quit the 
stomach too rapidly for the necessary changes to be effect- 
ed in it. This is provided for by a sort of contraction at 
the pylonis, and by the food lying below it, so as to re- 
quire a considerable exertion of muscular power to carry 
it up to and then through this opening. 

The intestines, which consist of six different parts, bear 
a considerable resemblance in their structure to the stom- 
ach. By means of their muscular coats, the food, after 
passing through the pylorus, is gradually carried down- 
wards, by a sort of gentle vermicular motion, which is 
technically called the peristaltic motion of the intestines. 
Next to the stomach, the most important change which 
the food undergoes is in the first intestine, where the 
bile, which is a bitter juice secreted from the liver, and 
the pancreatic juice, which is a fluid resembling saliva, 
secreted from the pancreas, are added to it ; but, over the 
whole course of the canal, fluids are poured into it, for 
facilitating its conversion into nourishment. The food 
is now so altered in its nature as to be capable of afford- 
ing chyle^ a fluid which somewhat resembles milk in ap- 
pearance. — {See Illustrations^ Fig. 22.) 

Such is the process of digestion. It consists of two 
operations : one occurring in the stomach, by which the 
food is converted into chyme ; the other in the bowels, 
by which it is converted into chyle. — The next process 
is absorption. Over the whole interior of the intestines 
minute vessels, called lacteals, open for the purpose of 
taking up the chyle. They carry it over a considerable 
space, sometimes uniting as they proceed into large 
branches, and sometimes dividing into minute ramifica- 
tions, till they join at last in one large trunk, which is 
called at its commencement the receptacle of the chyle, 
and in its continuance the thoracic duct. These, to- 
gether, form a tortuous canal, several inches in length, and 
about the thickness of a quill. It lies close to the spine, 
accompanies some of the large blood-vessels, and, ascend- 
ing to the upper part of the chest delivers its contents 



230 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

into a large vein near the heart, called the left subclavian ; 
and these contents then form a part of the general mass of 
the blood. 

But the chyle, thus absorbed by the lacteals and the 
thoracic duct, is not fitted at once to unite with the 
blood, and thereby to produce that compound fluid which 
supplies nourishment to the animal body; it must pass 
through the lesser circulation. The greater circulation, 
that is, the mode in which the blood is transmitted from 
the heart to the different parts of the body by the arte- 
ries, and returned by the veins to be again circulated, 
has already been explained.* But it is to be observed, 
that there is an intermediate or lesser circulation through 
the lungs. The chyle enters the veins, and the veins 
convey the blood to the right side of the heart, from 
whence it is carried through the lungs. It is then brought 
back to the left side of the heart, and forthwith trans- 
mitted by the arteries all over the body, to be brought 
back by the veins, and to be continually subject to a rep- 
etition of the same career. There is thus a sort of 
double circulation : one side of the heart circulating the 
blood through the lungs, the other over the body. The 
necessity for the lesser circulation arises from this, that 
blood is not fitted for the support of the system when it 
is first received into the heart with the recent addition 
of chyle. It is only blood of a florid red or scarlet colour, 
such as is found in the arteries, that is adapted to the 
nutritive purposes of the system ; but that which is con- 
tained in the veins is of a dark or Modena red, and 
therefore its nature must be ameliorated before it can be 
of any value. This is efiected by spreading it out in the 
lungs, where it is freely exposed to the action of the at- 
mosphere during the process of respiration, and where it 
is properly and finally assimilated. — When the venous 
blood is received into the heart it is of a dark colour ; it 
circulates through the lungs, and it returns florid or 
proper blood. It is then circulated by the arteries ; it fur- 
nishes the materials for the growth of parts, and for the 

* Vide page 195. 



SECT. VT. A COURSE OF READING. 231 

formation of the various secretions of the body ; and after 
serving these purposes, it is returned by the veins of an 
altered colour and character, and unable further to nour- 
ish and support. It receives the addition of fresh mate- 
rials from the food, is then elaborated in the lungs, and 
again undergoes the same process. 



A VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD. 

Emblem of Eternity, 
Unbeginning, endless Sea ! 
Let me launch my soul on thee. 

Sail, nor keel, nor helm, nor oar. 

Need I, ask I, to explore 

Thine expanse from shore to shore. 

Eager fancy, unconfined, 
In a voyage of the mind, 
Sweeps along thee like the wind.- 



Where the billows cease to roll, 
Round the silence of the pole, 
Thence set out, my venturous soul ! 

See, by Greenland cold and wild, 

Rocks of ice eternal piled ; 

Yet the mother loves her child. 
Next on lonely Labrador, 
Let me hear the snowfalls roar. 
Devastating all before. 

But a brighter ^dsion breaks 
O'er Canadian woods and lakes ; 
— These my spirit soon forsakes. 
Land of exiled Liberty, 
Where our fathers once were free, 
Brave New England, hail to thee ! 

Pennsylvania, while thy flood 
Waters fields imbought with blood. 
Stand for peace as^thou hast stood. 
The West Indies I behold, 
Like the Hesperides of old, 
— Trees of life, with fruit's of gold ! 



232 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

No— a curse is on tlie soil ; 
Bonds and scourges, tears and toil, 
Men degrade, and earth despoil. 

Horror-struck, I turn away. 

Coasting down the Mexique bay ; 

Slavery there hath lost the day. 

South America expands 

Mountain-forests , river-lands, 

And a nobler race demands ; 
And a nobler race arise, 
Stretch their limbs, unclose their eyes, 
Claim the earth, and seek the skies. 

Gliding through Magellan's straits. 
Where two oceans ope their gates, 
What a spectacle awaits ! 

The immense Pacific smiles 

Round ten thousand little isles, 

— Haunts of violence and wiles. 

But the powers of darkness yield, 
For the Cross is in the field, 
And the light of life reveal'd. 

Rays from rock to rock it darts, 

Conquers adamantine hearts. 

And immortal bliss imparts. 

North and west, receding far 

From the evening's downward star, 

Now I mount Aurora's car, — 
Pale Siberia's deserts shun, 
From Kamtschatka's headlands run, 
South and east to meet the sun. 

Jealous China, strange Japan, 
With bewilder'd thought I scan : 
— They are but dead seas of man. 

Lo ! the eastern Cyclades, 

Phoenix-nests, and halcyon seas ; 

But I tarry not with these. 

Pass we low New Holland's shoals. 
Where no ample river rolls ; 
— ^World of undiscover'd souls ! 



SECT. VI. A COPRSE OF READING. 233 

Bring them forth ; — 'tis Heaven's decree : 

Man, assert thy dignity ; 

Let not brutes look down on thee. 

Either India next is seen, 

With the Ganges stretched between ; 

Ah ! what horrors here have been. 

War, disguised as Commerce, came ; 

Britain, carrying sword and flame. 

Won an empire, — lost her name. 

By the Gulf of Persia sail, 
Where the true-love nightingale 
Woos the rose in every vale. 

Though Arabia charge the breeze 

With the incense of her trees. 

On I press o'er southern seas. 

Cape of Storms, thy spectre's fled. 
And the angel Hope, instead. 
Lights from heaven upon thy head. 

St Helena's dungeon-keep 

Scowls defiance o'er the deep ; 

There a Hero's relics sleep. 

Mammon's plague-ships throng the waves ; 
Oh ! 'twere mercy to the slaves. 
Were the maws of sharks their graves. 

Hercules, thy pillars stand. 

Sentinels of sea and land ; 

Cloud-capt Atlas towers at hand. 

Mark the dens of caitiff Moors ; 

Ha ! the pirates seize their oars ; 

— Fly the desecrated shores. 
Egypt's hieroglyphic realm. 
Other floods than Nile's o'erwhelm ; 
— Slaves tum'd despots hold the helm. 

judah's cities are forlorn, 
Lebanon and Carmel shorn, 
Zion trampled down with scorn. 

Greece, thine ancient lamp is spent ; 

Thou art thine own monument ; 

But the sepulchre is rent, 

l2 



234 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI, 

And a wind is on the wing, 

At whose breath new heroes spring, 

Sages teach, and poets sing. 

Italy, thy beauties shroud 

In a gorgeous evening cloud ; 

Thy refulgent head is bowed : 

Yet where Roman genius reigns, 

Eoman blood must wann the veins : 

— Look well, tyrants, to your chains. 
Feudal realm of old romance, 
Spain, thy lofty front advance, 
Grasp thy shield, and couch thy lance. 

At the fire-flash of thine eye. 

Giant Bigotry shall fly ; 

At thy voice. Oppression die. 
Lusitania, from the dust 
Shake thy locks ; thy cause is just ; 
Strike for freedom, strike and trust. 

France, I hurry from thy shore ; 
Thou art not the France of yore ; 
Thou art new-born France no more. 

Sweep by Holland like the blast ; 

One quick glance at Denmark cast, 

Sweden, Russia ; — all is past. 

Elbe nor Weser tempt my stay ; 

Germany beware the day 

Wlien thy schoolmen bear the sway 

Now to thee, to thee I fly, 
- Fairest isle beneath the sky 

To my heart as in mine eye ! 

I have seen them, one by one. 

Every shore beneath the sun. 

And my voyage now is done. 
While I bid them all be blest, 
Britain, thou'rt my home — my rest : 
— My own land, I love thee best. 

Montgomery. 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 235 

EGYPTIAN ANTIQUITIES. 

1. The Pyramids. — With what amazement did we 
survey the vast surface that was presented to us when we 
arrived at this artificial mountain, which seemed to reach 
the clouds ! Here and there appeared some Arab guides 
upon the immense masses above us, like so many pigmies, 
waiting to show the way to the summit. Already some 
of our party had begun the ascent, and were pausing at 
the tremendous depth which they saw below. One of 
our military companions, after having surmounted the 
most difficult part of the undertaking, became giddy in 
consequence of looking down from the elevation he had 
attained; and, being compelled to abandon the project, 
he hired an Arab to assist him in effecting his descent. 
The rest of us, more accustomed to the business of climb- 
ing heights, with many a halt for respiration, and many an 
exclamation of wonder, pursued our way towards the sum- 
mit. The mode of ascent has been frequently described ; 
and yet from the questions that are often proposed to 
travellers, it does not appear to be generally understood. 
The reader may imagine himself to be upon a staircase, 
every step of which, to a man of middle stature, is nearly 
breast high ; and the breadth of each step is equal to its 
height ; consequently the footing is secure ; and although 
a retrospect, in going up, be sometimes fearful to persons 
unaccustomed to look down from any considerable eleva- 
tion, yet there is little danger of falling. In some places, 
indeed, where the stones are decayed, caution may be re- 
quired ; and an Arab guide is always necessary, to avoid 
a total interruption ; but, upon the whole, the means of 
ascent are such, that almost every one may accomplish it. 
Our progress was impeded by other causes. We carried 
with us a few instruments, such as our boat-compass, a 
thermometer, a telescope, &c. ; these could not be trusted 
in the hands of the Arabs, and they were liable to be 
broken every instant. At length we reached the topmost 
tier, to the great delight and satisfaction of all the party. 
Here we found a platform, thirty-two feet square, con- 



236 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

sisting of nine large stones, each of which might weigh 
about a ton ; although they be much inferior in size to some 
of the stones used in the construction of this pyramid. 
Travellers of all ages, and of various nations, have here in- 
scribed their names. Some are written in Greek, many in 
French, a few in Arabic, one or two in English, and others 
in Latin. We were as desirous as our predecessors to leave 
a memorial of our arrival ; it seemed to be a tribute of 
thankfulness due for the success of our undertaking ; and 
presently every one of our party was seen busied in adding 
the inscription of his name. — [See Illustrations, Fig. 23.) 

Dr E. D. Clarke. 



2. Pompe'jfs Pillar. — Pompey's Pillar stands near 
the southern gate of Alexandria. It is composed of red 
granite. The capital, which is Corinthian, is 9 feet high. 
The shaft and the upper member of the base are of one 
piece, 90 feet long, and 9 in diameter. The base, a 
block of marble, 60 feet in circumference, rests on two 
layers of stone bound together with lead; which, how- 
ever, has not prevented the Arabs from forcing out sev- 
eral of them to search for an imaginary treasure. The 
whole column is 114 feet high. Nothing can equal the 
majesty of this monument; the beauty of the capital, 
the length of the shaft, and the extraordinary simplicity 
of the pedestal, excite the admiration of all travellers. 
This last has been somewhat damaged by the instruments 
of travellers curious to possess a relic of antiquity ; and 
one of the volutes of the column was immaturely brought 
down, a few years ago, by a prank of some English cap- 
tains, which may be related as an instance of the address 
and fearlessness of British sailors. 

A strange freak entered into the brains of these sons of 
Neptune to drink a bowl of punch on the top of Pom- 
pey^s Pillar! To the spot accordingly they went; and 
many contrivances were proposed to accomplish the de- 
sired point. But their labour was vain, until the genius 
who struck out the frolic happily suggested the means of 
performing it. A man was despatched to the city for a 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 237 

paper kite ; and the inhabitants, apprized of what was 
going forward, flocked in crowds to be witnesses of the 
address and boldness of the English. The kite was flown 
so directly over the pillar, that when it fell on the other 
side, the string lodged upon the capital. A two-inch rope 
was tied to one end of the string, and drawn over the pil- 
lar by the end to which the kite was fixed. By this rope 
one of the seamen ascended to the top ; and in less than 
an hour a kind of shroud was constructed, by which the 
whole company went up and drank their punch amid the 
shouts of the astonished multitude. — To the eye below, the 
capital of the pillar does not appear capable of holding 
more than one man upon it ; but our seamen found it 
could contain no less than eight persons very conveniently. 
It is astonishing that no accident befell these madcaps, in 
a situation so elevated that it would have turned a land- 
man giddy in his sober senses. The only detriment which 
the pillar received was the loss of the volute before men- 
tioned, which came down with a thundering sound. The 
discovery which they made amply compensated for this 
mischief; as, without their evidence^ the world would 
not have known at this hour that there was originally a 
statue on this pillar, one foot and ankle of which are still 
remaining. — {See Illustrations^ Fig, 24.) 

Scrap Book, 



3. Mummy Pits, — The suffocating air of these tombs 
is so great as to cause fainting. A vast quantity of dust 
rises, so fine that it enters into the throat and nostrils, 
and chokes the nose and mouth to such a degree, that it 
requires great power of lungs to resist it and the strong 
effluvia of the mummies. This is not all; the entry or 
passage, where the bodies are, is roughly cut in the rocks, 
and in some places there is not more than a vacancy of a 
foot left, which you must contrive to pass through in a 
creeping posture like a snail, on pointed and keen stones 
that cut like glass. After getting through these pas- 
sages, some of them two or three hundred yards long, you 
generally find a more commodious place, perhaps higli 



238 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

enougli to sit. But what a place of rest ! surrounded by 
heaps of mummies in all directions. The blackness of the 
wall, the faint light given by the candles or torches for 
want of air, the different objects that surround you, seem- 
ing to converse with each other, and the Arab guides with 
the candles or torches in their hands, naked and covered 
with dust, themselves resembling living mummies, abso- 
lutely form a scene that cannot be described. After the 
exertion of entering into such a place, nearly overcome, 
you seek a resting-place, find one, and contrive to sit ; but 
when your weight bears on the body of an Egyptian, it 
crushes it like a bandbox. You naturally have recourse to 
your hands to sustain your weight, but they find no better 
support ; so that you sink altogether among the broken 
mummies, with a crash of bones, rags, and wooden cases, 
which raise such a dust as keeps you motionless for a quar- 
ter of an hour waiting till it subside again. Once I was 
conducted from such a place to another resembling it, 
through a passage of about twenty feet in length, and no 
wider than what a body could be forced through. It was 
choked with mummies, and I could not pass without put- 
ting my face in contact with that of some decayed Egyp- 
tian; but as the passage inclined downwards, my own 
weight helped me on : however, I could not avoid being 
covered with bones, legs, arms, and heads, rolling from 
above.'^ — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 25.) Belzoni. 



ADDRESS TO THE MUMMY IN BELZONI S EXHIBITION. 

And thou hast walk'd about (how strange a story !) 
In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago, 

When the Memnonium was in all its glory, 
And time had not begun to overthrow 

Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous, 

Of which the very ruins are tremendous. 

* In addition to many valuable relics, Belzoni found numerous speci- 
mens of Egyptian manufactures in these subterraneous abodes ; some of 
them, such as leaf-gold, which he describes as equally thin with our own, 
evincing no ordinary degree of advancement in the arts. 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OP READING. 239 

Speak ! for thou long enough hast acted Dummy, 
Thou hast a tongue — come, let us hear its tune ; 

Thou'rt standing on thy legs above ground. Mummy ! 
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon, 

Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures, 

But Tvith thy bones and flesh, and limbs and features. 

Tell us — for doubtless thou canst recollect — 
To whom should we assign the Sphinx's fame ? 

Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect 

Of either Pyramid that bears his name ? 

Is Pompey's Pillar really a misnomer ? 

Had Thebes a himdred gates, as sung by Homer ? 

Perchance that very hand, now pinion'd flat, 
Has hob-a-nobb'd with Pharaoh glass to glass ; 

Or dropp'd a halfpenny in Homer's hat. 

Or doff'd thine own to let Queen Dido pass, 

Or held, by Solomon's own invitation, 

A torch at the great Temple's dedication. 

I need not ask thee if that hand, when arm'd, 
Has any Eoman soldier maul'd and knuckled, 

For thou wert dead, and buried, and embalm'd. 
Ere Eomulus and Eemus had been suckled : — 

Antiquity appears to have begun 

Long after thy primeval race was run. 

Since first thy form was in this box extended, 

We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations ; 

The Roman empire has begun and ended. 

New worlds have risen — we have lost old nations ; 

And countless kings have into dust been humbled, 

^^^lile not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled. 

Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head, 
When the great Persian conqueror, Cambyses, 

March'd armies o'er thy tomb with thundering tread, 
O'erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis, 

And shook the Pyramids with fear and wonder, 

WTien the gigantic Memnon fell asunder ? 



^ 

If the tomb's secrets may not be confess'd, 
The nature of thy private life unfold : — 



240 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VI. 

A heart has throbbed beneath that leathern breast, 

And tears adown that dusky cheek have roU'd : — 
Have children clunb'd those knees and kiss'd that face ? 
Whsit was thy name and station, age and race? 

Statue of flesh — immortal of the dead ! • 

Imperishable type of evanescence ! 
Posthumous man, who quitt'st thy narrow bed, 

And standest undecay'd within our presence. 
Thou wilt hear nothing till the Judgment-moming, 
When the great trump shall thrill thee with its warning. 

Why should this worthless tegument endure, 

If its undying guest be lost for ever ? 
let us keep the soul embalm'd and pure 

In living virtue, that, when both must sever. 
Although corruption may our frame consume, 
The immortal spirit in the skies may bloom. 

Horace Smith. 



THE WINDS. 

Wind is the motion of a stream or current of air. It 
may be produced by a variety of chemical and meteoro- 
logical causes; but the most common cause is a partial 
change of temperature in the atmosphere. When any 
one part is more heated than the rest, that part is 
rarefied; the equilibrium is destroyed, and the air in 
consequence rises. When this happens, there necessarily 
follows a motion of the surrounding air towards that part, 
in order to restore it ; this spot, therefore, receives wind 
from every quarter, so that those who live to the north of 
it experience a north wind, and those to the south a 
south wind. This motion occurs especially in the torrid 
zone, where the heat is greatest ; the air being more 
rarefied there than in any other part of the globe, is 
lighter, and consequently ascends ; whilst the air is con- 
tinually flowing from the poles to restore the equilibrium. 
This motion of the air would produce a regular and con- 
stant north wind to the inhabitants of the northern hemi- 
sphere, a south wind to those of the southern hemisphere. 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 241 

and continual storms at the equator, did not the diurnal 
rotation of the earth modify it in some degree. The at- 
mosphere accompanies the earth in its diurnal motion, 
and consequently travels with greater or less velocity as 
it is nearer tlie equator, or more distant from it. When, 
therefore, the air flows from the north or south to restore 
the atmospherical equilibrium at the equator, this air, not 
having acquired the velocity of the equatorial regions, 
cannot keep pace with the earth, which, travelling faster, 
passes through it ; and as the earth moves from west to 
east, this motion of the earth through the air produces a 
regular east wind at the equator. The winds from the 
north and south combine with the easterly wind about 
the equator, and form what are called the trade-winds. 
The composition of the two winds, north and east, pro- 
duces a constant north-east wind; and that of the two 
winds, south and east, a regular south-east wind. These 
winds extend to about thirty degrees on each side of the 
equator, the regions farther distant from it experiencing 
only their respective north and south winds. 

There are also periodical trade-winds, called monsoons^ 
which change their course every half-year. This varia- 
tion is produced by the earth's annual course round the 
sun, when the north pole is inclined towards that lumi- 
nary one-half of the year, and the south pole the other 
half. During the summer of the northern hemisphere, 
the countries of Arabia, Persia, India, and China, are 
much heated, and reflect great quantities of the sun's 
rays into the atmosphere, by which it becomes extremely 
rarefied, and the equilibrium consequently destroyed. In 
order to restore it, the air from the equatorial southern 
regions, where it is colder (as well as from the colder 
northern parts), must necessarily have a motion towards 
those parts. The current of air from the equatorial 
regions produces the trade- winds for the first six months 
in all the seas between the heated continent of Asia and 
the equator. The other six months, when it is summer 
in the southern hemisphere, the ocean and countries to- 
wards the southern tropic are most heated, and the air 



242 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

over those parts most rarefied; then the air about the 
equator alters its course, and flows exactly in an opposite 
direction. The breaking of the monsoons is the name 
given by sailors to the shifting of these periodical winds. 
They do not change their course suddenly, but by de- 
grees, as the sun moves from one hemisphere to the other. 
This change is usually attended by storms and hurricanes 
very dangerous for shipping ; so that those seas are sel- 
dom navigated at the season of the equinox. 

These remarks will explain the winds in the torrid 
zone ; but what is it that occasions the great variety of 
winds which occur in the temperate zones ? This ques- 
tion does not admit of a positive answer. This, however, 
is plain : — that the air, in all climates, will suffer more 
or less perturbation, according to the situation of the 
country, the position of mountains, valleys, and a variety 
of other causes; and that, hence, almost every climate 
must be liable to variable winds. On the seashore 
there is generally a gentle sea-breeze setting in on the 
land on a summer evening, to restore the equilibrium 
which had been disturbed by reflections from the heated 
surface of the shore durhig the day ; and when night has 
cooled the land, and condensed the air, at the approach of 
morning it flows back towards the sea, producing what is 
called the land-breeze. All the causes that have the 
effect of varying the wind cannot be enumerated ; but it 
may be observed in general, that a change in the temper- 
ature of a column of air, the transformation of atmospheric 
vapours into water, their congelation, — in a word, what- 
ever causes a vacuum, a condensation, an expansion, and 
consequently destroys the equilibrium of the atmosphere, 
— necessarily produces wind. 

It is almost unnecessary to portray the useful and 
agreeable effects of which the winds are productive. 
They purify our atmosphere, by keeping up a perpetual 
agitation in it ; they dissipate the miasmata exhaled 
from marshes and stagnant water ; they raise and trans- 
port the clouds destined to fertilize the ground by means 
of rain. Millions of seeds, furnished with their little 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 243 

pinions, ride upon the wings of the wind, and spread afar 
the empire of vegetation. The ingenuity of man has 
made a lever of the winds, which, when, applied to ma- 
chinery, spares him an immensity of toil. If the ocean 
is the highway of our globe, winds are the indefatigable 
coursers which rapidly transport our ships from pole to 
pole. Considering winds merely in a picturesque point 
of view, how many enjoyments do they procure to a lover 
of the great spectacle of nature, — above all, to the in- 
habitant of mountains! Sometimes they spread over 
every valley a curtain of clouds, which shows the sum- 
mits of the far-distant Alps like so many islands scatter- 
ed on the surface of an ocean ; sometimes, partially draw- 
ing this curtain aside, they open to us all at once the 
most astonishing prospects, in which the brightest sun- 
shine forms a happy contrast with the contiguous shades. 
In the evenings of summer, and still more of autumn, it 
is the winds which, accumulating and marshalling their 
long trains of clouds, create and destroy before us those 
fugitive landscapes, those aerial mountains, which are 
tinged by the fires of the setting sun. 



OPTICAL INSTRUMENTS. TELESCOPE, MICROSCOPE. 

The invention of optical instruments is one of the most 
valuable contributions which individual ingenuity has 
made to the general welfare. Not to mention spectacles 
(invented, it is said, by a Florentine of the name of Sal- 
vino, in the beginning of the 14th century), one of the 
most beneficial discoveries ever made for a large portion 
of mankind, let us consider the telescope and microscope. 
The son of a spectacle-maker of Middleburg in Holland, 
happening to amuse himself in his father^ s shop, by hold- 
ing two glasses between his finger and his thumb, and 
varying their distance, perceived the weathercock of the 
church-spire opposite to him much larger than ordinary, 
and apparently much nearer, and turned upside down. 
This new wonder excited the amazement of the father ; 
he adjusted two glasses on a board, rendering them mov- 



244 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

able at pleasure ; and thus formed the first rude imita- 
tion of a perspective-glass, by which distant objects are 
brought near to view. Galileo, a philosopher of Tuscany, 
hearing of the invention, set his mind to work in order to 
bring it to perfection. He fixed his glasses at the end of 
long organ-pipes, and constructed a telescope, which he 
soon directed to different parts of the surrounding heavens. 
He discovered four moons revolving round the planet Jupi- 
ter — ^spots on the surface of the sun, and the rotation of 
that globe around its axis — mountains and valleys in the 
moon— and numbers of fixed stars where scarcely one was 
visible to the naked eye. These discoveries were made 
about the year 1610, a short time after the first invention 
of the telescope. Since that period this instrument has 
passed through various degrees of improvement, and, by 
means of it, celestial wonders have been explored in the 
distant spaces of the universe, which, in former times, 
were altogether concealed from mortal view. 

The telescope may be considered as a vehicle for con- 
veying us to the distant regions of space. By the aid of 
Dr Herschel's telescope, which magnifies 6000 times, we 
can view the magnificent system of the planet Saturn as 
well as if we had performed a journey 800,000,000 miles 
in the direction of that globe, which, at the rate of 50 
miles an hour, it would require a period of 1800 years to 
accomplish ; by the same instrument we can contemplate 
the region of the fixed stars, their arrangement into sys- 
tems, and their immense numbers, with the same ampli- 
tude of view as if we had actually taken a flight of 
4,000,000,000,000 miles into these unexplored regions, 
which could not be accomplished in several millions of 
years, though our motion was as rapid as that of a ball 
projected from a cannon. This instrument has there- 
fore been justly described, when it has been called " a 
providential gift bestowed upon mankind, to serve as a 
temporary substitute for those powers of rapid flight 
with which seraphim are endowed, and with which man 
himself may be invested when he arrives at the summit of 
moral perfection.^' 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 245 

Not less wonderful are the discoveries of tlie micro- 
scope^ an instrument constructed on similar principles, 
for the purpose of examining minute objects. When 
and by whom this instrument was invented is not cer- 
tainly known; though it is believed that Drebell, a 
Dutchman, who had one in 1621, was either the inventor 
or an early improver of it. By means of this optical con- 
trivance we perceive a variety of wonders in almost every 
object in the animal, the vegetable, and the mineral king- 
doms. We perceive, for instance, that every particle of 
matter, however minute, has a determinate form — that 
the very scales on the skin of a fish are all beautifully 
interwoven and variegated like pieces of network, which 
no art can imitate — ^that the points of the prickles of ve- 
getables, though magnified a thousand times, appear as 
sharp and well polished as to the naked eye — that every 
particle of the dust on a butterfly^s wing is a beautiful 
and regularly organized feather — that every hair of our 
head is a hollow tube, with bulbs and roots, furnished 
with a variety of threads or filaments — and that the pores 
in our skin, through which the perspiration flows, are so 
numerous and minute, that a grain of sand would cover 
a hundred and twenty-five thousand of them. We per- 
ceive animated beings in certain liquids, so small that 
fifty thousand of them would not equal the size of a mite ; 
and yet each of these creatures is furnished with a mouth, 
eyes, stomach, blood-vessels, and other organs for the 
performance of animal functions. In a stagnant pool, 
which is covered with a greenish scum during the summer 
months, every drop of the water is found to be a world 
teeming with thousands of inhabitants. The mouldy 
substance which usually adheres to damp bodies exhibits 
a forest of trees and plants, where the branches, leaves, 
and fruit can be plainly distinguished. In a word, by 
this admirable instrument we behold the same Almighty 
hand which rounded the spacious globe on which we live 
4^ and the huge masses of the planetary orbs, and directs 
them in their rapid motions through the sky — employed, 
at the same moment, in rounding and polishing ten thou- 
sand minute transparent globes in the eye of a fly, and 



246 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 

boring and arranging veins and arteries, and forming and 
clasping joints and claws for tlie movements of a mite ? 



TIMES AND SEASONS. 

The lark has sung his carol in the sky ; 

The bees have humm'd their noontide lullaby ; 

Still in the vale the village-bells ring round, 

Stni in Llewellyn-hall the jests resound; 

For now the caudle- cup is circling there, 

Now, glad at heart, the gossips breathe their prayer. 

And, crowding, stop the cradle to admh'e 

The babe, the sleeping image of his sire. 

A few short years — and then these sounds shall hail 
The day again, and gladness fill the vale ; 
So soon the child a youth, the youth a man, 
Eager to run the race his fathers ran : 
Then the huge ox shall yield the broad sirloin : 
The ale, now brew'd, in floods of amber shine : 
And, basking in the chimney's ample blaze, 
'Mid many a tale told of his boyish days. 
The nurse shall cry, of all her ills beguiled, 
" 'Twas on these knees he sate so oft and smiled.'* 

And soon again shall music swell the breeze : 
Soon, issuing forth, shall glitter through the trees 
Vestures of nuptial white ; and hymns be sung, 
And violets scatter'd round ; and old and young, 
In every cottage-porch with garlands green. 
Stand still to gaze, and gazmg bless the scene ; 
While, her dark eyes declining, by his side 
Moves in her virgin veil the gentle bride. 

And once, alas ! nor in a distant hour, 
Another voice shall come from yonder tower ; 
When in dim chambers long black weeds are seen, 
And weepings heard where only joy has been; 
When by his children borne, and from his door 
Slowly departing to return no more. 
He rests in holy earth with them that went before. 

Rodgers. 



How Still the morning of the hallow'd day I 
Mute is the voice of rural labour, hush'd 



SECT. VI. A COURSE OF READING. 247 

The ploughboy's whistle, and the milkmaid's soDg. 
The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath 
Of tedded grass, mingled with fading flowers. 
That yestermorn bloom'd waving in the breeze. 
Sounds the most faint attract the ear, — the hum 
Of early bee, the trickling of the dew, 
The distant bleating midway up the hill. 
Calmness sits throned on yon unmoving cloud. 
To him who wanders o'er the upland leas, 
The blackbu'd's note comes mellower from the dale ; 
And sweeter from the sky the gladsome lark 
"Warbles his heaven-tuned song ; the lulling brook 
Murmurs more gently down the deep-worn glen ; 
While from yon lowly roof, whose curling smoke 
O'ermounts the mist, is heard, at intervals, 
The voice of psalms, — the simple song of praise. 

Grahame. 



Child, amidst the flowers at play, 
While the red light fades away ; 
Mother, with thine earnest eye, 
Ever following silently ; 
Father, by the breeze of eve, 
Call'd thy harvest-work to leave : 
Pray ! ere yet the dark hours be, 
Lift the heart and bend the knee. 

Traveller, in the stranger's land 
Far from thine own household band ; 
Mourner, haunted by the tone 
Of a voice from this world gone ; 
Captive, in whose narrow cell 
Sunshine hath not leave to dwell ; 
Sailor, on the darkemng sea — 
Lift the heart and bend the knee. 

Warrior, that from battle won 

Breathest now at set of sun ; 

Woman, o'er the lowly slain 

Weeping on his burial-plain ; 

Ye that triumph, ye that sigh, 

Kindred by one holy tie ; 

Heaven's first star alike ye see — 

Lift the heart and bend the knee. Mrs Hemans. 



248. A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VI. 



Methinks if ye would know 

How visitations of calamity- 
Affect the pious soul, 'tis shown ye there ! 
Look yonder at that cloud, which, through the sky, 
Sailing alone, doth cross in her career 
The rolling moon ! — I watch' d it as it came, 
And deem'd the deep opaque would blot her beams ; 
But, melting like a wreath of snow, it hangs 
In folds of wavy silver round, and clothes 
The orb Avith richer beauties than her own, 
Then passing, leaves her in her light serene ! 

SOUTHEY. 



Leaves have their time to fall. 
And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, 

And stars to set — but all, 
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, Death ! 

Day is for mortal care. 
Eve for glad meetings round the joyous hearth. 

Night for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer ; 
But all for thee, thou Mightiest of the Earth ! 

We know when moons shall wane. 
When summer-birds from far shall cross the sea, 

Wlien autumn's hue shall tinge the golden grain ; 
But who shall teach us when to look for thee ? 

Is it when spring's first gale 
Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie ? 

Is it when roses in our paths grow pale ? 
They have one season — all are ours to die ! 

Thou art where billows foam ; 
Thou art where music melts upon the air ; 

Thou art around us in our peaceful home ; 
And the world calls us forth — and thou art there ; 

Thou art where friend meets friend. 
Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest ; 

Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumpets rend 
The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest ! 

Mrs Hemans. 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 249 



SECTION VII. 



AQUEOUS VAPOUR. CLOUDS AND MISTS, RAIN, DEW, 

SNOW, HAIL. 

It has been already mentioned, that water exposed to 
the air is gradually converted into a state of vapour, 
which, on account of its specific levity, ascends into the 
atmosphere. This vapour presents itself in various forms. 
When the air holds it in solution, it is invisible, just as 
salt dissolved in water is invisible ; but when the vapour 
condenses, the watery particles become visible either in 
the form of clouds and mists suspended in the atmo- 
sphere, or in that of rain, dew, snow, and hail, falling to 
the ground. 

Clouds and Mists differ only in this, that the former 
float high in the air, whereas the latter extend along near 
the ground. They are understood to consist of a collection 
of small vesicles or hollow spheres, and to occupy a sort 
of intermediate state between water and invisible vapour. 
The causes that produce these vesicles are not well un- 
derstood, though change of temperature and electricity 
have probably the principal share in the transformation. 
The height of clouds is very various. In ascending to 
the summit of mountains, the traveller frequently passes 
through a zone of clouds, and beholds the vesicular va- 
pours of which it is composed stretched under his feet like 
a vast plain covered with snow ; but even on Chimborazo, 
one of the loftiest peaks of the Andes, there are always 
to be seen, at an immense height, certain whitish clouds 
resembling flakes of wool. These clouds, which are per- 
haps many miles from the^ sm'face of the earth, are sup- 
posed to owe their elevation to negative electricity re- 
pelling them from the ground, in the same way as mists 

M 



250 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VH. 

are supposed to owe their depression to positive electricity 
attracting them towards it. 



Rain falls from the clouds when the vesicular vapour 
of which they are composed unites into drops. The fall 
of the drops of rain, after they are formed, is easily ac- 
counted for from the attraction of gravity ; but the cause 
of the conversion of vesicular vapour into rain-drops is not 
better understood than the cause of the conversion of va- 
pour into vesicles, though it is highly probable that elec- 
tricity is an agent in the one case as well as in the other. 
If the change be owing to the diminution of this fluid, 
we have a ready explanation of the well-known fact, that 
mountainous are the most rainy countries; mountains 
constituting so many points for drawing off the electric 
fluid. This supposition is further rendered very probable 
by the fact, that no rain falls in those regions where 
thunder is unknown, as in the environs of Lima, and on 
the coast of Peru. Deluc observed a very elevated cloud 
descend with rapidity towards the earth, scatter round a 
violent shower of rain, and then with equal velocity re- 
mount to its original height, — a circumstance which seems 
confirmatory of the same hypothesis. 

The quantity of rain that falls in different regions of 
the globe is very different. It is most abundant within 
the torrid zone, and decreases in proportion to the dis- 
tance from the equator. The annual fall at Grenada, in 
12° N. lat., is 126 inches; at Calcutta, in 22° N. lat., 
it is 81 inches; at Rome, in 41° 54^, it is 39 inches; in 
England 32 inches; and at Petersburg, in lat. 59° 16^, 
it is only 16 inches. Even in different places in the same 
country the quantity that falls is different. At London, 
according to Dalton, it is 20 inches ; at Manchester, 36 
inches ; at Kendal, 53 inches ; at Dumfries, 36 ; at Glas- 
gow, 21 ; and at Edinburgh, 29 ; but the most curious fact 
of all in the natural history of rain is the difference of quan- 
tity which is collected at different heights at the same place. 
In one year a rain-gauge on the top of Westminster Ab- 
bey received 12 inches ; another on the top of a house in 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF BEADING. 251 

the vicinity received 18 inches ; and a third on the sur- 
face of the ground received 22 inches. 



Dew^ or the moisture insensibly deposited • from the 
atmosphere on the surface of the ground, is a well-known 
phenomenon. It was long supposed that its precipitation 
was owing to the cooling of the atmosphere towards even- 
ing, which prevented it from retaining so great a quantity 
of watery vapour in solution as during the heat of the 
day; but Dr Wells has satisfactorily proved that the 
deposition of dew is produced by the cooling of the sur- 
face of the earth, which, he has shown, takes place pre- 
viously to the cooling of the atmosphere. The earth is 
an excellent radiator of caloric, whilst the atmosphere 
does not possess that property in any sensible degree. To- 
wards evening, therefore, when the solar heat declines, 
and after sunset, when it entirely ceases, the earth rap- 
idly cools by radiating heat towards the skies, whilst the 
air has no means of parting with its heat but by coming 
into contact with the cooled surface of the earth, to which 
it communicates its caloric. Its solvent power being thus 
reduced, it is unable to retain so large a portion of watery 
vapour, and deposites those pearly drops called dew. This 
view of the matter explains the reason why dew falls 
more copiously in calm than in stormy weather, and in a 
clear than in a cloudy atmosphere. Accumulations of 
moisture in the atmosphere not only prevent the free ra- 
diation of the earth towards the upper regions, but them- 
selves radiate towards the earth ; whereas, in clear nights, 
the radiation of the earth passes without obstacle through 
the atmosphere to the distant regions of space, whence it 
receives no caloric in exchange. The same principle en- 
ables us to explain the reason why a bottle of wine taken 
fresh from the cellar (in summer particularly) will soon 
be covered with dew. The bottle being colder than the 
surrounding air absorbs caloric from it; the moisture 
therefore which that air contained becomes visible, and 
forms the dew which is deposited on the bottle. In like 
manner, in a warm room, or in a close carriage, the inside 



252 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

of the windows is covered with vapour, because the win- 
dow, being colder than the breath, deprives it of part of 
its caloric, and by this means converts it into watery 
vapour. 

Bodies attract dew in proportion as they are good ra- 
diators of caloric, as it is this quality which reduces their 
temperature below that of the atmosphere. Hence we 
find, that little or no dew is deposited on rocks, sand, or 
water ; while grass and living vegetables, to which it is 
so highly beneficial, attract it in abundance, — a remark- 
able instance of the wise and bountiful dispensations of 
Providence. The same benevolent design we may ob- 
serve also in the abundance of dew in summer and in hot 
climates, where its cooling eff'ects are so much required. 
The more caloric the earth receives during the day, the 
more it will radiate afterwards, and consequently the 
more rapidly its temperature will be reduced in the even- 
ing, in comparison to that of the atmosphere. In the 
TVest Indies, accordingly, where the intense heat of the 
day is strongly contrasted with the coolness of the evening, 
the dew is prodigiously abundant. When dew is frozen 
the moment it falls, it gets the name of hoar-frost 



Snow is another of the forms which the vapours of the 
atmosphere assume. It consists of aqueous vapour con- 
gealed, either while falling, or when in the air previous 
to falling. The first crystals, produced at a great height 
in the atmosphere, determine, as they descend, the crys- 
tallization of aqueous particles, which, without their pre- 
sence, the surrounding air would retain in a state of 
solution. The result is the formation of hexagonal darts, 
or stars of six rays, when the weather is suflSciently calm, 
and the temperature not too high to deform the crystals 
by melting off their angles ; but when the atmosphere is 
agitated, and the snow falls from a great height, the 
crystals clash together, unite in groups, and form irregular 
flakes. 



Hailj according to aU appearance, is a species of snow, 



SECT. Vn. A COURSE OF READING. 253 

or of snowy rain, wliich has undergone a variety of con- 
gelations and superficial meltings in its passage through 
diflferent zones of the atmosphere, of different tempera- 
tures. Its formation evidently depends upon electricity. 
It is by an electrical apparatus that we can produce artifi- 
cial hail ; and it is well known that volcanic eruptions are 
often followed by the fall of hailstones of enormous size. 



Such are the principal circumstances which are sup- 
posed to conciu' in the formation of aqueous meteors. 
Their beneficial influence upon the earth is a point more 
easy to determine. We observe all nature languish when 
the atmosphere retains for too long a time the moisture 
arising from the earth. Plants fade and droop ; animals 
feel their strength failing them ; man himself, breathing 
nothing but dust, can with difficulty procure shelter from 
the sultry heat, by which his frame is parched and over- 
powered ; but scarcely have the waters of heaven de- 
scended from the clouds, when all living beings begin to 
revive ; the fields resume their green attire, the flowers 
their lively tints, animals the sportive freedom of their 
motions, and the elements of the air their healthful equi- 
librium. Snow itself, w^hose very name alarms the na- 
tives of the tropics, is productive of real advantages in 
the economy of nature ; it secures the roots of plants 
against the effects of intense cold ; it serves gently to 
moisten those lands from which, owing to their local sit- 
uation, the rain is too soon carried off; and it paves for 
the inhabitant of the north commodious and agreeable 
roads, along which he gaily skims in his light and nimble 
sledge. Hail alone, of all the aqueous meteors, never 
appears but as a harbinger of distress. Birds and quad- 
rupeds instinctively conceal themselves as soon as they 
have any presentiment of its coming. Man can neither 
foresee its approach, nor arrest its ravages ; he has been 
able to ward off the thunderbolts of the sky, but he sees 
the hail destroy his com, break his fruit-trees, and shat- 
ter the very house where he dwells, without being able to 
prevent it. 



254 A corRSE of reading. sect, vu. 



ASPIRATIONS OP YOUTH. 

Higher, higher will we climb 

Up the mount of glory, 
That our names may live through time 

In our country's story ; 
Happy, when her welfare calls, 
He who conquers, he who falls. 

Deeper, deeper let us toil 

In the mines of knowledge ; 
Nature's wealth and Learning's spoil 

Win from school and college ; 
Delve we there for richer gems 
Than the stars of diadems. 

Onward, onward may we press 

Through the path of duty ; 
Virtue is true happiness. 

Excellence true beauty : 
Minds are of celestial birth, 
Make we then a heaven of earth. 

Closer, closer let us knit 

Hearts and hands together. 
Where our fireside-comforts sit 

In the wildest weather ; — 
0, they wander wide who roam 
For the joys of life from home ! 

Montgomery. 



THE BETTER LAND. 

" I HEAR thee speak of the better land ; 
Thou callest its cliildren a happy band : 
Mother ! O where is that radiant shore ? — 
Shall we not seek it, and weep no more ? — 
Is it where the flower of the orange blows. 
And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs ?^ 
" Not there, not there, ray child ! " 

" Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, 
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? — 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OP READING. 255 

Or 'midst the green islands on glittering seas, 
AVhere fragrant forests perfume the breeze, 
And strange bright birds, on their starry wings, 
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things? " 
" Not there, not there, my child I " 

" Is it far away in some region old. 
Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold ? 
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine. 
And the diamond lights up the secret mine, 
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand, 
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?" 
" Not there, not there, my child ! — 

*' Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy ! 
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy ; 
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair- 
Sorrow and death may not enter there : 
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom ; 
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb. 
It is there, it is there, my child ! " 

Mrs Hemans. 



THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 

In England the supreme govemment, — that is, the power 
of making and enforcing laws, — is divided into two 
branches ; the one legislative^ consisting of king, lords, 
and commons ; the other executive^ consisting of the king 
alone. 

The executive or regal office is hereditary on certain 
conditions ; but the right of inheritance may be changed 
or limited by act of parliament. The principal duty of 
the king is to govern the people according to the laws ; 
^' but although the king," says Lord Bacon, "is the foun- 
tain of justice, and is intrusted with the whole executive 
power of the law, yet he hath no power to change or alter 
the laws which have been received and established in 
these kingdoms, and are the birthright of every subject ; 
for it is by those very laws that he is to govern." The 
king owns no superior but God and the laws. It is a 



256 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

maxim of the constitution, that the king in his political 
capacity can do no wrong,, because he acts only by officers 
responsible to the law. The king never dies ; that is, the 
executive authority never ceases to exist. The king is 
head of the English Church, but he cannot alter the estab- 
lished religion. He is also generalissimo of all the forces, 
but he cannot raise an army without the consent of parlia- 
ment, nor can he maintain it without that consent being 
renewed from year to year. He has the power of coining 
money, but he cannot alter the standard. He is the sole 
representative of his people with foreign states, having 
the power of sending ambassadors, concluding treaties of 
alliance, and making peace or war. The king has the 
power of summoning, proroguing, or dissolving the par- 
liament ; but he is bound to summon a new parliament 
at least every seven years. He is also bound to admin- 
ister justice in the established course in his courts of 
law, not as a free gift^ but as the due of his people. The 
king is the fountain of mercy ; he alone can pardon all 
public offences, either absolutely or conditionally ; and 
of honour, as the constitution has intrusted him with the 
sole power of conferring titles, dignities, and honours. 
He is also intrusted with the immense patronage of the 
church, the army, the navy, the excise, and the colonies. 
As first magistrate of a great and free people, he is in- 
vested with many other splendid marks of regal dignity 
and pre-eminence, all intended by the constitution to be 
employed for the good of the people. 

The legislative authority is vested in a parliament, 
consisting of the king, the lords spiritual and temporal, 
and the commons. The House of Lords consists of the 
two archbishops and twenty-four bishops, and of all the 
peers of the realm who are entitled to a seat either by 
inheritance, creation, or election. The House of Com- 
mons consists of six hundred and fifty-eight persons, who 
are returned by the counties, cities, and boroughs, pos- 
sessing the right of election. Of these, five hundred are 
returned by England, one hundred and five by Ireland, 
and fifty three by Scotland. Though delegated by partic- 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 257 

. ular places, they are bound as members of parliament to 
act for the general good of the country. Their principal 
duties are to check and reform abuses of the administra- 
tion — to redress public and private grievances — to watch 
over the public expenditure — to enforce by their power 
of inquiry and impeachment a pure administration of jus- 
tice in all departments — to assist in framing wise laws, — 
and, finally, to preserve and promote, by every constitu- 
tional means, the freedom and prosperity of the great 
body of the people. The powers and privileges of this 
part of the legislature are commensurate to its great im- 
portance in the government. The Commons possess the 
sinews of war ; they are the keepers of the public purse ; 
all grants, subsidies, and taxes, must originate with them ; 
for it is a constitutional maxim, that taxation and repre- 
sentation go hand in hand ; and that the people only have 
a right to tax themselves. By the power of withholding 
supplies, they have a strong control over the executive ; 
and by the constitution they enjoy all the privileges nec- 
essary to their dignity and independence, and the un- 
biassed discharge of their high functions. Though new 
laws may be proposed by any member of either house, the 
consent of all the three constituent parts of the legislature 
is necessary to make them binding on the subject : and 
though any part of the legislature may, by withholding 
its consent, prevent the enactment of a law, it requires 
the agreement of all the three to repeal an existing stat- 
ute. 

"Thus,*' as observed by Blackstone, "the true ex- 
cellence of the British government consists in all its parts 
forming a mutual check upon each other. The legisla- 
ture cannot abridge the executive power of any rights 
which it now has by law, without its own consent. The 
people are a check upon the nobility, and the nobility 
are a check upon the people, by the mutual privilege of 
rejecting what the other has resolved ; while the king is 
a check upon both ; which preserves the executive power 
from encroachment. And this very executive power is 
again checked, and kept within due bounds, by the two 

* m2 



258 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

houses, through the privilege they have of Inquiring into, 
impeaching, and punishing the conduct, not indeed of 
the king (which would destroy his constitutional inde- 
pendence), but, which is more beneficial to the public, of 
his evil and pernicious counsellors." 

The same laws that secure to the king his crown and 
prerogative, secure to the meanest subject those rights 
which are emphatically styled the birthright of Britons. 
These are principally the right of personal security^ of 
personal liberty^ and of private property. They are as- 
serted, first, by the Great Charter obtained, sword in 
hand, from King John, and afterwards confirmed in par- 
liament by Henry III. Next, by a multitude of corrob- 
orating statutes, and, after a long interval, by the Peti- 
tion of Right, the Habeas Corpus Act, and the Bill of 
Rights. And, lastly, these liberties were again asserted 
in the same act (the Act of Settlement) that limits the 
crown to the present royal family. The Great Charter, 
declaratory of these rights, states, — " That no freeman 
shall be taken or imprisoned but by the lawful judgment 
of his equals, or the law of the land;'' and the Petition 
of Rights, — ^' That no person shall be imprisoned or 
detained without cause shown, to which he may answer 
according to law." Johnstone's Collection. 



COMPOUND BODIES CONTINUED.* ALKALIES, EARTHS, 

ACIDS. 

The first class of compounds that present themselves to 
our notice, in our gradual ascent to the most complicated 
combinations, are bodies composed of only two principles. 

* Chemical Nomenclature, — Before proceeding to study the com- 
pound bodies, it is necessary to have some idea of the nomenclature 
of chemistry. It is very simple and ingenious in its construction. 
Compounds, of which oxygen forms a part, are called adds or oxides, 
according as they do or do not possess acidity. An oxide of iron or 
copper signifies a combination of those metals with oxygen, which 
has no acid properties. The name of an acid is derived from the 
substance acidified by the oxygen, to which is added the termination 
in ic* Thus 8ulphur2V; and carbomc acids signify acid compounds of 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 259 

The sulphurets, phosphurets, carburets, &c. are of this 
description ; but the most numerous and important of 
these compounds are the combinations of oxygen with the 
various simple substances with which it has a tendency 
to unite. Of this class are the alkalies^ the earths^ and 
the acids^ which we shall successively examine. 



Alkalies, — The alkalies are three in number, viz. pot- 
ash, soda, and ammonia. The first two are called Jixed 
alkalies, because they exist in a solid state at the tem- 
perature of the atmosphere, and require a great heat to 
volatilize them. They consist of metallic bases com- 
bined with oxygen. The third, ammonia, is called vola- 
tile alkali, because its natural form is that of gas. It 
consists of hydrogen and nitrogen. The general prop- 
erties of alkalies are, an acrid burning taste, a pun- 
gent smell, and a caustic action on the skin and flesh; 
they change blue vegetable infusions to green, and have 



sulphur and carbon with oxygen gas. If sulphur or any other body 
forms two acids, that which contains the least quantity of oxygen is 
made to terminate in ous, as sulphurous acid. The termination in 
uret denotes combinations of the simple non- metallic substances 
either with one another, with a metal, or with a metallic oxide. Sul- 
lihuret and carbwrei of iron, for example, signify compounds of sul- 
phur and carbon with iron. The different oxides or sulphurets of 
the same substance were formerly distinguished from one another by 
some epithet, which is commonly derived from the colour of the 
compound, such as the black and red oxides of iron, the black and 
red sulphurets of mercury; but it is now more customary to distin- 
guish degrees of oxidation by the use of derivatives from the Greek. 
Protoxide signifies the first degree of oxidation, deutoxide the second, 
^'toxide the third, and peroxide the highest. The sulphurets, car- 
burets, &c. of the same substance are designated in a similar way. 
The combinations of acids with alkalies, earths, or metallic oxides, are 
termed salts, the names of which are so contrived as to indicate the 
substances contained in them. If the acidified substance contains a 
maximum of oxygen, the name of the salt terminates in ate; if a 
minimum, the termination in ite is employed. Thus, the sulphate, 
phosphafe, and arseniafe of potash, are salts of sulphuric, phosphoric, 
and arsenic acids ; while the terms sulphite, phosphite, and arsenite, 
of potash denote combinations of that alkali with the sulphurcma, 
phosphorcmff, and aisemous acids. 



260 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VII. 

a very great tendency to unite with acids, with which 
they form neutral salts. Potash^ which, when pure, is a dry 
white powder, difficult to preserve in its pulverized state 
from its extreme attraction for the moisture of the atmo- 
sphere, exists, in an impure state, in nature, in a variety 
of forms and combinations. It is most commonly ob- 
tained from the ashes of vegetables, which are the residue 
that remains after all the other parts are volatilized by 
combustion ; and it derives its name from the pots in 
which the vegetable used formerly to be burnt. Pearl- 
ash^ which is of great efficacy in taking out grease from 
linen, &c. is potash in a very impure state ; and potash 
itself combines readily with oil or fat, and forms the well- 
known compound, soap. Another remarkable property of 
potash is the formation of glass, by its fusion with sili- 
cious earth, — a substance very abundant in sand and 
flint. Thus, the same substance which converts trans- 
parent oil into such an opaque body as soap, transforms 
the opaque body, sand, into transparent glass ! In com- 
bination with nitric acid it forms saltpetre (nitrate of pot- 
ash). Soda has so great a resemblance to potash, that 
the two can scarcely be distinguished, except by the dif- 
ference of the salts which they form with acids. The 
great source of this alkali is the sea, where, combined 
with a peculiar acid, it forms the salt with which the 
waters of the ocean are so strongly impregnated ; but the 
usual mode of procuring it is by the combustion of ma- 
rine vegetables in a manner analogous to that in which 
potash is obtained. In common with the latter it also 
forms soap and glass. It derives iis name from a plant 
called by us soda, and by the Arabs kali, which affords 
it in great abundance. Kali has indeed given its name 
to the alkalies in general. Ammonia — well known un- 
der the name of hartshorn — is most commonly extracted 
from a compound body called sal-ammoniac (muriate of 
ammonia), which was formerly imported from Ammonia, 
a region of Libya, whence its name. 



Earths, — The common earths are nine in number, Silex, 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 261 

Alumina, Baryta, Lime, Magnesia, Strontia, Yttria, 
Glucina, Zirconia. One of the greatest of modem chemi- 
cal discoveries is, that these earths, instead of being, as 
was formerly supposed, simple bodies, are composed of 
metallic bases combined with oxygen. You must not 
confine your idea of earths to the formation of soil ; for 
rock, marble, chalk, slate, sand, flint, and all kinds of 
stones, from the precious jewels to the commonest peb- 
bles — in a word, all the immense variety of mineral 
products — may be referred to some of these earths, either 
in a simple state, or combined the one with the other, or 
blended with other ingredients. Precious stones com- 
posed of earth I— It is not more extraordinary than that 
the most precious of all jewels, diamonds, should be com- 
posed of charcoal. The earths are incombustible, though 
good radiators of caloric (hence the great heat of a turf- 
fire) ; and they are all more or less endowed with alka- 
line properties. 



Acids, — An acid is commonly regarded as a substance 
which has a sour taste, reddens litmus paper, and neu- 
tralizes alkalies. But, as some acids are insoluble, and 
in consequence of their insolubility, do not possess the 
first two properties, it is more correct to define an acid to 
be a compound which is capable of uniting in definite 
proportions with alkaline bases to form salts, and which, 
when liquid or in a state of solution, has either a sour 
taste, or reddens litmus paper. The other general prop- 
erties of acids are, that they combine with water in 
every proportion, with a condensation of volume, and an 
evolution of heat, — that they are volatilized or decomposed 
at a moderate heat, — and that they change the blue, green, 
and purple colours of vegetables to a bright red. The 
principal acids procurable from inorganic nature are 
those formed by the combination of oxygen with nitro- 
gen, carbon, and sulphur. Nitric acid, formerly called 
aquafortis, is composed of nitrogen and oxygen. It 
is, when pure, about one-half denser than water, and col- 
ourless. It is poisonous. It is eminently corrosive ; 



262 A COURSE OF READING^ SECT. VU. 

and it is of considerable use in the arts ; being employed 
for etching on copper, in dyeing, in metallurgy, in assay- 
ing, and in medical preparations. It is also of import- 
ance in chemical processes, on account of the facility with 
which it dissolves metals, by first parting with a part of 
its oxygen to them, and then attacking the oxides. Car- 
bonic acid is found in a gaseous state, though it is capable 
of being absorbed by water, and thus forming a weak 
acid. It is very abundant in nature. It composes 44 
per cent, of the weight of all limestone, chalk, marble, 
&c. It is emitted by animals in respiration ; it is gen- 
erated in all the spontaneous changes to which dead ani- 
mal and vegetable matters are subject ; and it is always 
present in the atmosphere, as may be proved by exposing 
lime-water in an open vessel to the air, when its surface 
will be covered with a pellicle, which is carbonate of lime. 
It extinguishes flame and destroys animal life. Being 
much denser than common air, it remains at the bottom, 
if it is formed in low confined places, as old wells, mines, 
&c., and forms an atmosphere called choke-damjp^ which is 
fatal to any animals that are placed in it. Water and 
other liquids, which have been charged with it under 
great pressure, lose the greater part of it when the pres- 
sure is removed ; and the effervescence which takes place 
on opening a bottle of soda-water, ginger-beer, cider, or 
brisk champagne, is owing to its escape. Indeed, the 
agreeable pungency of beer, porter, and ale, is in a 
great measure owing to the presence of carbonic acid, 
by the loss of which, on exposure to the air, they be- 
come stale. Sulphuric acid, formerly called oil of vit- 
riol, does not occur free in nature, except occasionally 
in the neighbourhood of volcanoes ; but in combination, 
particularly with lime and baryta, it is very abundant. 
It is one of the strongest acids with which chemists 
are acquainted. When undiluted it is powerfully corro- 
sive ; it decomposes all animal and vegetable substances, 
causing deposition of carbon and formation of water. It 
has a very great affinity for water ; and its combination 
with it takes place with the production of an intense 



SECT. Vn. A COURSE OF READING. 263 

heat. By its attraction for water, it causes tlie sudden 
liquefaction of snow ; and if mixed with it in due pro- 
portions, an intense degree of cold is generated. It ab- 
sorbs watery vapour with avidity from the air, and on this 
account is employed in the process for freezing water by 
its own evaporation. Indeed, the operation of sulphuric 
acid in destroying the texture of the skin, in forming 
ethers, and in decomposing organic substances in general, 
seems dependent on its affinity for water. 



WONDERS OF CF^ILISATION. 

The condition of the present inhabitants of this coimtry 
is very different from that of their forefathers. These, 
generally divided into small states or societies, had few 
relations of amity with surrounding tribes, and their 
thoughts and interests were confined very much within 
their own little territories and rude habits. Now, how- 
ever, every one sees himself a member of one vast civil- 
ized society which covers the face of the earth, and no 
part of the earth is indifferent to him. In England, a 
man of small fortune may cast his regards around him, 
and say with truth and exultation, — " I am lodged in a 
house that affords me conveniences and comforts which 
even a king could not command some centuries ago. 
There are ships crossing the seas in every direction, to 
bring what is useful to me from all parts of the earth. 
In China, men are gathering the tea-leaf for me ; in 
America, they are planting cotton for me ; in the West 
India islands, they are preparing my sugar and my cof- 
fee ; in Italy, they are feeding silk- worms for me ; in 
Saxony, they are shearing the sheep to make me cloth- 
ing; at home, powerful steam-engines are spinning and 
weaving for me, and making cutlery for me, and pump- 
ing the mines that minerals useful to me may be pro- 
cured. My patrimony was small, yet I have carriages 
running day and night on all the roads to carry my cor- 
respondence ; I have roads, and canals, and bridges, to 
bear the coal for my winter fire ; nay, I have protecting 



254 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

fleets and armies around my happy country, to secure my 
enjoyments and repose. Then I have editors and print- 
ers who daily send me an account of what is going on 
throughout the world, among all these people who serve 
me, and in a corner of my house I have hooks, the mi- 
racle of all my possessions, more wonderful than the 
wishing- cap of the Arabian tales ; for they transport me 
instantly, not only to all places, but to all times. By 
my books I can conjure up before me, to vivid existence, 
all the great and good men of antiquity ; and for my in- 
dividual satisfaction, I can make them act over again the 
most renowned of their exploits; the orators declaim for 
me ; the historians recite ; the poets sing ; in a word, 
from the equator to the pole, and from the beginning of 
time until now, by my books I can be where I please." — 
This picture is not overcharged, and might be much ex- 
tended; such being the miracle of God's goodness and 
providence, that each individual of the civilized millions 
that cover the earth may have nearly the same enjoyments 
as if he were the single lord of all. Arnott. 



Observe the accommodation of the most common artif- 
icer or day-labourer in a civilized country, and you will 
perceive that the number of people, whose industry has 
been employed in procuring him this accommodation, ex- 
ceeds all computation. The woollen coat, for example, 
which covers him, coarse and rough as it may appear, is 
the produce of the joint labour of a great multitude of 
workmen. The shepherd, the sorter of the wool, the 
wool-comber, the dyer, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, 
with many others, must all join their different arts, in 
order to complete even this homely production. How 
many merchants and carriers besides must have been 
employed in transporting the materials from some of 
those workmen to others! How much commerce and 
navigation in particular; how many ship-builders, sail- 
makers, rope-makers, must have been employed in order 
to bring together the different drugs made use of by the 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 265 

dyer, wliicli often come from the remotest corners of the 
world ! What a variety of labour, too, is necessary in or- 
der to produce the tools of the meanest of these workmen ! 
To say nothing of such complicated machines as the ship 
of the sailor, the mill of the fuller, or even the loom of 
the weaver, let us consider only what a variety of labour 
is requisite in order to form that very simple machine, 
the shears with which the shepherd clips the wool. The 
miner, the builder of the furnace for smelting the ore, 
the feller of the timber, the burner of the charcoal to be 
made use of in the smelting-house, the brickmaker, the 
bricklayer, the workmen who attend the furnace, the 
millwright, the forger, the smith, must all of them join 
their different arts in order to produce them. Were we 
to examine, in the same manner, all the different parts of 
his dress and household furniture ; the coarse linen shirt 
which he wears next his skin, the shoes which cover his 
feet, the bed which he lies on, and all the different parts 
which compose it, the kitchen-grate at which he prepares 
his victuals, the coals which he makes use of for that pur- 
pose, dug from the bowels of the earth, and brought to 
him perhaps by a long sea and a long land carriage, all 
the other utensils of his kitchen, all the furniture of his 
table, the knives and forks, the earthen or pewter plates 
upon which he serves up and divides his victuals, the 
different hands employed in preparing his bread and his 
beer, the glass window which lets in the heat and the 
light, and keeps out the wind and the rain, with all the 
knowledge and art requisite for preparing that beautiful 
and happy invention, without which these northern parts 
of the world could scarce have afforded a very comfort- 
able habitation, together with the tools of all the different 
workmen employed in producing those different conveni- 
ences ; if we examine all those things, and consider what 
a variety of labour is employed about each of them, we 
shall be sensible, that, without the assistance and co-op- 
eration of many thousands, the very meanest person in a 
civilized country could not be provided, even according 



266 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VH. 

to, what we very falsely imagine, the easy and simple 
manner in which he is usually accommodated. 

Adam Smith. 



THE GRAVES OP A HOUSEHOLD. 

They grew in beauty, side by side, 

They fill'd one home with glee ;— 
Their graves are severed, far and wide, 

By mount, and stream, and sea. 
The same fond mother bent at night 

O'er each fair sleeping brow ; 
She had each folded flower in sight, — 

Where are those dreamers now ? 

One, 'midst the forests of the West, 

By a dark stream is laid, — 
The Indian knows his place of rest. 

Far in the cedar shade. 
The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one, 

He lies where pearls lie deep : 
He was the loved of all, yet none 

O'er his low bed may weep. 

One sleeps where southern viaes are drest 

Above the noble slain : 
He wrapt his colours round his breast, 

On a blood-red field of Spain. 
And one — o'er her the myrtle showers 

Its leaves, by soft wiads fann'd ; 
She faded 'midst Italian flowers, — 

The last of that bright band. 

And parted thus they rest, who play'd 

Beneath the same green tree ; 
Whose voices mingled as they pray'd 

Around one parent knee ! 
They that with smiles lit up the hall. 

And cheer'd with song the hearth, — 
Alas ! for love, if thou wert aU, 

And nought beyond, oh earth ! Mrs Hemans. 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READINGw 267 

COMPLAINT OF THE DYING YEAR. 

** I AM the son of old Father Time^ and the last of a nu- 
merous progeny ; for he has had upwards of five thousand 
of us ; but it has ever been his fate to see one child ex- 
pire before another was bom. It is the opinion of some, 
that his own constitution is beginning to break up, and 
that when he has given birth to a hundred or two more 
of us, his family will be complete, and then he himself 
will be no more.'' Thus the old year began his com- 
plaint. He then called for his account-book, and turned 
over the pages with a sorrowful eye. He has kept, it 
appears, an accurate account of the moments, minutes, 
hours, and months which he has issued, and subjoined, 
in some places, memorandums of the uses to which they 
have been applied, and of the losses he has sustained. 
These particulars it would be tedious to detail ; but we 
must notice one circumstance : upon turning to a certain 
page in his accounts, the old man was much affected, and 
the tears streamed down his farrowed cheeks as he ex- 
amined it. This was the register of the fifty-two Sun- 
days which he had issued ; and which, of all the wealth 
he had to dispose of, has been, it appears, the most scan- 
dalously wasted. "These," said he, "were my most 
precious gifts. Alas I how lightly have they been es- 
teemed ! 

" I feel, however,'' said he, " more pity than indigna- 
tion towards these offenders, since they were far greater 
enemies to themselves than to me. But there are a few 
outrageous ones, by whom I have been defrauded of so 
much of my substance, that it is difficult to think of them 
with patience, particularly that notorious thief Procrasti- 
nation^ of whom everybody has heard, and who is well 
known to have wronged my venerable father of much of 
his property. There are also three noted ruffians. Sleep, 
Sloth, and Pleasure, from whom I have suffered much; 
besides a certain busy-body Called Z)res5, who, under pre- 
tence of making the most of me, and taking great care of 
me, steals away more of my gifts than any two of them. 



268 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. YII. 

" As for me, all must acknowledge that I have per- 
formed my part towards my friends and foes. I have 
fulfilled my utmost promise, and been more bountiful 
than many of my predecessors. My twelve fair children 
have, each in their turn, aided my exertions ; and their 
Tarious tastes and dispositions have all conduced to the 
general good. Mild February^ who sprinkled the naked 
boughs with delicate buds, and brought her wonted offer- 
ing of early flowers, was not of more essential service than 
that rude blustering boy, March^ who, though violent in 
his temper, was well-intentioned and useful. April^ a 
gentle, tender-hearted girl, wept for his loss, yet cheered 
me with many a smile. June came cro^vned with roses, 
and sparkling in sunbeams, and laid up a store of costly 
ornaments for her luxuriant successors. But I cannot 
stop to enumerate the good qualities and graces of all my 
children. You, my poor December^ dark in your com- 
plexion, and cold in your temper, greatly resemble my 
first-born January^ with this difference, that he was most 
prone to anticipation, and you to reflection. 

"It is very likely that, at least after my decease, many 
may reflect upon themselves for their misconduct towards 
me. To such I would leave it as my dying injunction, 
not to waste time in unavailing regret : all their wishes 
and repentance will not recall me to life. I would rather 
earnestly recommend to their regard my youthful succes- 
sor, whose appearance is shortly expected. I cannot hope 
to survive long enough to introduce him ; but I would 
fain hope that he will meet with a favourable reception ; 
and that, in addition to the flattering honours which 
greeted my birth, and the fair promises which deceived 
my hopes, more diligent exertion and more persevering 
efforts may be expected. Let it be remembered that one 
honest endeavour is worth ten fair promises." 

Jane Taylor. 



ADDRESS TO A STEAM-BOAT. 

Freighted with passengers of every sort, 
A motley throng, thou leav'st the busy port. 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 269 

Thy long and ample deck, where scattered lie 

Baskets and cloaks, and shawls of scarlet dye ; 

Where dogs and children through the crowd are straying, 

And, on the bench apart, the fiddler playing, 

Wliile matron dames to tresselFd seats repaii*, — 

Seems on the gleamy waves a floating fair. 

Its dark form on the sky's pale azm'e cast, 
Towers from this clustering group thy pillar'd mast : 
The dense smoke issuing from its narrow vent 
Is to the air in curly volumes sent. 
Which, coiling and uncoiling on the wind. 
Trails like a writhing serpent far behind. 
Beneath, as each merged wheel its motion plies, 
On either side the white churn'd waters rise. 
And, newly parted from the noisy fray. 
Track with light ridgy foam the recent way ; 
Then far diverged, in many a welting line 
Of lustre, on the distant surface shine. 

Thou holdst thy course in independent pride ; 
No leave askst thou of either wind or tide; 
To whate'er point the breeze, inconstant, veer. 
Still doth thy careless helmsman onward steer, 
As if the stroke of some magician's wand 
. Had lent thee power the ocean to command. 

Yet, ne'ertheless, whate'er we owe to thee, 
Kover at will on river, lake, and sea. 
Dearer to fancy, to the eye more fair. 
Are the light skiffs, that, to the breezy air, 
Unfurl their swelling sails of snowy hue 
Upon the moving lap of ocean blue : 
As the proud swan on summer lake displays, 
With plumage brightening in the morning rays. 
Her fair pavilion of erected wings, — 
They change, and veer, and turn like living things. 

In very truth, compared to these thou art 
A daily labourer, a mechanic swart : 
Beholding thee, the great of^ other days. 
And modern men with all their alter'd ways, 
Across my mind with hasty transit gleam. 
Like fleeting shadows of a feverish dream : 



270 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. Vn, 

Fitful I gaze, with adverse humours teased, 
Half sad, half proud, half angry, and half pleased. 

Joanna Baillie. 



THE ASSAULT. 

'Tis the mom, but dim and dark. 
Whither flies the silent lark ? 
Whither shrinks the clouded sun ? 
Is the day indeed begun ? 
Nature's eye is melancholy 
O'er the city high and holy : 
But without there is a din 
Should arouse the saints within, 
And revive the heroic ashes 
Round which yeUow Tiber dashes. 
Oh ye seven hiUs ! awaken, 
Ere your very base be shaken ! 

Hearken to the steady stamp ! 

Mars is in their every tramp ! 

Not a step is out of tune. 

As the tides obey the moon ! 

On they march, though to self-slaughter, 

Regular as rolling water. 

Whose high waves o'ersweep the border 

Of huge moles, but keep their order. 

Breaking only rank by rank. 

Hearken to the armour's clank ! 

Look upon the bristling wall, 
Mann'd without an interval ! 
Round and round, and tier on tier. 
Cannon's black mouth, shining spear. 
Lit match, beU-mouth'd musquetoou, 
Gaping to be murderous soon ; 
All the warlike gear of old, 
Mix'd with what we now behold, 
In this strife 'twixt old and new. 
Gather like a locusts' crew. 

Near — and near — and nearer still. 
As the earthquake saps the hill, 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OP READING. 271 

First with trembling, hollow motion, 
Like a s car ce-a waken' d ocean, 
Then with stronger shock and louder, 
Till the rocks are crush' d to powder, — 
Onward sweep the varied nations ! 
Famine long hath dealt their rations. 
To the wall, with hate and hunger. 
Numerous as wolves, and stronger. 
On they sweep. Oh ! glorious city, 
Must thou be a theme for pity ? 
Fight, like your first sire, each Koman ! 
Alaric was a gentle foeman, 
Match'd with Bourbon's black banditti ! 
Rouse thee, thou eternal city ; 
Rouse thee ! Rather give the torch 
With thy own hand to thy porch, 
Than behold such hosts pollute 
Your worst dwelling -^dth their foot. 

Now they reach thee in their anger : 
Fire and smoke and hellish clangour 
Are around thee, thou world's wonder I 
Death is in thy walls and under. 
Now the meeting steel first clashes, 
Downward then the ladder crashes, 
With its iron load all gleaming, 
Lying at its foot blaspheming ! 
Up again ! for every warrior 
Slain, another climbs the barrier. 
Thicker grows the strife : thy ditches 
Europe's mingling gore em-iches. 
Rome ! although thy wall may perish, 
Such manure thy fields will cherish, 
Making gay the harvest-home ; 
But thy hearths, alas ! oh, Rome ! 
Yet be Rome amidst thine anguish, 
Fight as thou wast wont to vanquish ! — 
Let each breathing heart dilated 
Turn, as doth the lion baited ! 
Rome be crush'd to one wide tomb, 
But be still the Roman's Rome ! 

Byron. 



272 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

THE ANIMAL ECONOMY. MAMMALIA, BIRDS. 

The teeth of mammiferous animals are deserving of par- 
ticular attention, because, according to the numbers, form, 
and disposition of these, the various orders of quadrupeds 
have been arranged. In most animals of this class they 
are used, not only for the mastication of food, but as 
weapons of offence. They are inserted in two movable 
bones, called jaws. The front teeth, the office of which 
is to cut, are wedge-shaped, and so placed that, in action, 
their shai^ edges are brought into contact. On each side 
of the front teeth are the canine teeth or tusks, which 
are larger, of a conical shape, and used for tearing the 
food. The teeth at the back of the jaw, between which 
the food is masticated, are called grinders. In animals 
which live on vegetables, these are flattened at the top ; 
but in carnivorous animals, their upper surfaces are fur- 
nished with sharp and conically pointed protuberances. 

The internal structure of mammalia is very admirable. 
The blood flows through the body from its reservoir the 
heart, by a series of vessels called arteries, and returns 
by another series denominated veins. During the cir- 
culation, various fluids, called secretions, are separated 
from the blood, and are carried through little vessels to 
be lodged in appropriate reservoirs. These fluids are 
adapted to various purposes in the system. Into the 
lungs the atmospheric air is inspired from the mouth ; 
and in them the vital air and the matter of heat are sep- 
arated ; the former being necessary for the maintenance 
of life, and the latter for keeping up the fluidity of the 
blood. The mephitic air which remains, after the de- 
composition, is expired. The act of drawing in the at- 
mospheric air, separating the vital air and matter of heat, 
and ejecting the mephitic air, is called respiration. In 
digestion^ the juices fitted to nourish the body are sepa- 
rated from the less useful parts of the food. Reduced 
to a pulp by means of the teeth and saliva, these pass 
through a canal to a large reservoir called the stomach, 
in which the aliment, penetrated and further dissolved 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 273 

by new juices, undergoes a trituration or kind of grind- 
ing, and is separated into nutritive juices, whicli, on their 
union, are denominated chyle. These juices are then 
taken up by little vessels called lacteals, and converted 
into new blood and flesh. 

The bodies of all mammiferous animals are supported 
by a frame of bones, called a skeleton. To these bones 
are attached the muscles or flesh, assemblages of fibres 
held together by membranes, and terminating in a kind 
of cords termed tendons. The muscles, when excited, 
produce motion in the different parts of the body 5 and 
it is their action which gives to all animals the power of 
changing their place, and of performing the various move- 
ments which are necessary to them. Sensation is sup- 
posed to arise from an irritation taking place on the ends 
of certain chords, called nerves^ which are connected with 
the spinal marrow and the brain. This is a part of the 
subject, however, on which science is able to shed but a 
feeble light.* — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 26.) 



No division of the animal world furnishes more strik- 
ing evidences of Supreme Wisdom than that which in- 
cludes the different feathered tribes. Their structure and 
habits of life are wonderfully adapted to the various 
functions they have to perform. Their feathers form an 



* Mammalia have been divided into seven orders ; into, 1. Pri- 
mates^ which have four front teeth in each jaw, and one canine tooth 
on each side in both jaws. 2. Bruta, which have no front teeth. 3. Fe- 
rae^ which have six front teeth in each jaw, and one canine tooth on 
each side in both jaws. 4. GlireSj which have two long front teeth 
in each jaw, and no canine teeth. 5. Fecora^ which have no front 
teeth in the upper jaw, and have cloven hoofs on their feet. 6. Bel- 
luce, which have obtuse front teeth in each jaw, and undivided hoofs 
on their feet. And, 7. Cete, or whales, which have fins instead of 
feet, breathing-holes on the front and upper part of the skull, and flat 
horizontal tails. Apes and bats are instances of the first order ; the 
rhinoceros and elephant of the second; dogs, cats, otters, bears, of the 
third; beavers, squirrels, hares, of the fourth; goats, sheep, oxen, 
and camels, of the fifth ; horses, hogs, of the sixth ; and whales and 
dolphins of the seventh. 



274 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

envelope for their bodies, whicli combines in a remarkable 
manner the apparently incompatible properties of lightness 
and warmth; and they are so disposed, one above the 
other, and from the forepart backward, that they present 
the least possible resistance to the air. For this purpose 
also their head is small, their bill wedge-shaped, their 
neck long and movable in all directions, their body sharp 
on the under- side and flat on the back, and their bones 
hollow and comparatively light. For the purpose of giv- 
ing warmth to the body, a short soft down fills up all the 
vacant spaces between the shafts of the feathers. 

But these indications of supreme wisdom are not con- 
fined to the general structure of birds. They may be 
seen in every part of that structure, even the most mi- 
nute. They may be seen in the supply of unctuous mat- 
ter which is given for defending the feathers from the 
moisture of the atmosphere, — a supply which invariably 
accords with the necessities of the different species, those 
having most that reside constantly in the open air, and 
those that live principally under cover having a more 
scanty share.* They may be seen in the movable mem- 
brane which defends the eye from injury when passing 
through hedges and thickets, — a membrane which is semi- 
transparent, and which the bird can move at pleasure. 
They may be seen in the singular contrivance by which 
the bird is enabled to change the shape of the eye so as 
to see the insect that is within a few inches of it, and the 
bird of prey which is several miles distant. And they 
may be seen in the air-vessels which are placed over the 
whole body, and which, by the constant supply of air 
which they furnish to the lungs, prevent respiration from 
being stopped or interrupted even in the swiftest flight. 

The flight of birds is one of their most interesting pe- 
culiarities. The muscles by which the wings are moved 
are exceedingly large, and in some instances constitute 
not less than l-6th of their whole weight. When a bird 

* This accounts for poultry, when wet, having a ruffled and uncom- 
fortable appearance. 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 275 

is on the ground, and intends to fly, lie takes a leap, 
stretches his wings, and strikes them downward with 
great force. By this stroke the body is thrown into an 
oblique position. The stroke being completed, he moves 
up his wings; these being contracted, and having their 
edges turned upward, meet with little resistance from 
the air. When they are sufficiently elevated, he makes 
a second stroke downwards, and the reaction of the air 
again moves him forward. These successive strokes act 
as so many leaps taken in the air. When he wants to 
turn to the right or left, he strikes strongly with the op- 
posite wing, and this impels him to the proper side. The 
tail acts like the rudder of a ship, except that it moves 
him upward or downward, instead of side wise. If he 
wants to rise, he raises it ; and if to fall he depresses it. 
In a horizontal position it keeps him steady. By spread- 
ing his wings he can continue to move horizontally for 
some time without striking them, because he has acquired 
a sufficient velocity, and his wings being parallel to the 
horizon, meet with but little resistance. When he be- 
gins to fall he can easily steer himself upward by his tail 
till the motion he had acquired is nearly spent ; he must 
then renew it by two or three new strokes. On alight- 
ing he expands his wings and tail full against the air, 
that they may meet with all the resistance possible.* 



* Birds are divided into land-birds and water-birds. Land -birds 
are subdivided into, 1. Bajpacious birds, which have their bill hooked, 
and an angular projection on each side of the upper mandible ; they 
consist of vultures, eagles or hawks, and owls. 2. Fies, which have 
their bill sharp at the edge, compressed at the sides, and convex on 
the upper surface. To this order belong crows, humming-birds, par- 
rots, woodpeckers, &c. 3. Passerine birds, which have a sharp-pointed 
bill; to which order belong finches, thrushes, larks, swallows, pig- 
eons, &c. And, 4. Gallinaceous birds, which have the upper man- 
dible considerably arched; pheasants, turkeys, peacocks, grouse, &c., 
belong to this order. Water-birds are subdivided into, 1. Waders, 
which have a roundish bill and fle"fehy tongue, and long legs ; as he- 
rons, plovers, snipes, &c., which live chiefly among marshes and 
fens, and feed on worms ; and, 2. Swimmers, which have the bill 
broad at the top, and covered with a membranous skin. The tribes 



276 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

FIRST LINES OF OPTICS. PROPERTIES OF LIGHT, RE- 
FLECTION, REFRACTION, COLOUR, THE RAINBOW, 

The nature of light has not yet been ascertamed, though 
it is frequently believed to consist of material particles 
thrown off from luminous bodies in all directions. But 
its general properties have long been fully determined. — 
1. It proceeds from bodies in straight lines. This may 
be shown by causing light to pass through small holes 
into a dark room filled with smoke or dust. It is proved 
also by the fact, that bodies cannot be seen through bent 
tubes ; and it may be inferred from the form of the shad- 
ows of bodies. It is supposed that transparency is ow- 
ing to the rectilineal arrangement of the pores of bodies, 
which enables them to act like straight tubes for the free 
passage of light, and that opacity is caused by an opposite 
arrangement, in consequence of which rays are inter- 
cepted, as if by bent tubes. — 2. The intensity of light is 
diminished in proportion to the square of the distance 
from its source. At two feet from a candle, a person has 
only the fourth part of the light he would have at one foot, 
at three feet the ninth part, at four feet the sixteenth part, 
and so on. — 3. All bodies^ not visible of themselves, are 
rendered visible by light, which originally comes from a 
luminous body, and which is reflected by them. A group 
of persons round a fire in a field at night may be seen a 
great way off, though they themselves cannot see any ob- 
ject until it be brought near them. A person looking 
into a cavern sees but a very little way, as the light is 
not reflected from it ; but if he walk forward, and turn 
about towards the mouth of it, he will see the objects 
near the mouth very distinctly, as the light from them 
comes to him. In like manner, the moon and planets are 
rendered visible by the solar light which they reflect ; and 
accordingly when the moon comes between us and the 
sun, the former is invisible. — 4. Bodies reflect light of the 



best known are the ducks, peterels, pelicans, and guUs, which live 
chiefly in the water, and feed on fish, worms, and aquatic plants. 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 277 

same colour as themselves ^ althougli the light of the sun 
which renders them visible is white. This may be proved 
by the following beautiful experiment : — Place a white 
card in one end of a box shut up on all sides, place a rose- 
bush at the opposite end, and make a pin-hole at the same 
end with the rose-bush, to admit the light from the bush 
to the card : if you look through another hole at the card, 
you shall see upon the card, and opposite each rose, a 
patch of red light, and opposite each green leaf a patch 
of green light. These patches of colour constitute a 
picture of the rose-bush turned upside down, not very 
distinct indeed, but easily recognisable. If you enlarge 
the hole and admit more light, the picture becomes more 
indistinct, and the colours more faint, and when the hole 
reaches a certain size, the red light and the green light 
will fall upon the same parts of the card, and it will 
appear of its original whiteness. — 5. Light moves with 
prodigious velocity/. If two observers are placed at the 
distance of 80 miles, and if one of them strikes a light at 
a known instant of time, the light will travel to the other 
in such a small portion of time, that it cannot be mea- 
sured by the nicest time-keepers. Astronomers have 
proved, by observing the eclipses of Jupiter^ s satellites, 
when that planet is nearest and farthest from the earth, 
that light travels from the sun to the earth in seven 
minutes. Hence it will move from the one pole of the 
globe to the other in the 24th part of a second, or at the 
rate of 195,000 miles in a second, — a velocity which sur- 
passes all comprehension. This prodigious velocity proves 
that, if light consist of particles, these particles must be 
inconceivably minute ; for, notwithstanding such velocity, 
they enter the eye, the most delicate and sensible organ 
of the body, without causing uneasiness. " If a particle," 
says Dr Thomson the distinguished chemist, " weighed 
a thousandth part of a grain, its force would be equal to 
that of a musket-ball; were it the millionth part of a 
grain, it would destroy everything against which it 
struck ; if it weighed a millionth part of that, it would 
still have a very sensible force ; but how much less must 



278 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VII. 

it be, when It makes no impression upon an organ so very- 
delicate as the eye !'' 



When light falls on a looking-glass or a piece of pol- 
ished metal, it is thrown off or reflected. This is well 
known to every one ; and it is true more or less of all 
bodies whatsoever, but especially of bodies having polished 
surfaces. The law which rays of light uniformly observe 
in their reflection is, that the angle of reflection is always 
exactly equal to the angle of incidence, — a law which 
may be seen exemplified in many common instances. If 
I stand before a mirror, I see my image reflected back to 
me. If I stand a little to the side, I cannot see myself ; 
but a person who stands just as far on the other side of 
it can see my image in the glass, and I see his. If I 
place a candle a little to one side, I must go as far on the 
other to see its image in the glass. 



Light naturally proceeds in straight lines ; but as it is 
subject, in common with other bodies, to attraction, it 
may be drawn or bent out of its course ; this is what is 
called the refraction of light. This never happens ex- 
cept it passes out of one medium into others of different 
density ; as out of air into water or glass, or out of water 
or glass into air. The laws of refraction cannot be well 
explained without the aid of mathematics; but some 
general idea of its nature may be formed by attending to 
familiar appearances. The end of a stick, when put in 
water, appears bent in consequence of refraction which 
the light suffers in passing from air, a rare medium, into 
water, a dense medium. If a shilling be put in a basin, 
and the eye placed so as just to see the edge of the 
shilling, then if water be poured into the basin, the 
shilling will be seen most distinctly ; for, when no water 
was in the basin, the rays of light from the shilling, 
proceeding in straight lines, were prevented from reaching 
the eye by the side of the basin, but when water was 
poured in they suffered a refraction in emerging from it 
a dense medium, into air a rare medium, and conse- 



SECT. YII. A COURSE OF READING. 279 

quently proceeded to tlie eye. It is to tlie refraction 
which the sun's rays suffer in passing through the atmos- 
phere, which is a medium increasing in density as it 
approaches the earth, that we are indebted for the evening 
and morning twilight. The degi'ce of refraction is greatly 
affected by the state of the atmosphere. Sailors very 
well know, that a ship may be seen much farther off at 
one time than at another: and so also may the land. 
Sumburgh-head, the most southern promontory of Shet- 
land, cannot be seen from North Ronaldshay, in the 
Orkneys, in the clearest weather ; but it may be seen 
sometimes, and then heavy rains never fail to set in : it is 
the moisture which increases the refraction. It is in con- 
sequence also of the property of refraction that lenses and 
other optical instruments are so available to the purposes 
of man. A lens is usually made of polished glass, and 
has different names according to its shape ; as prism, 
double-convex lens, plano-convex lens, meniscus, &c. — 
The two kinds most commonly in use are the convex and 
the concave. The glasses of spectacles for old people, or 
burning-glasses, are convex lenses ; an eyeglass for short- 
sighted people is a concave lens. A convex lens collects 
the rays of light into a point called a focus, which, in a 
single convex lens, is the centre of the sphere of which the 
lens is a part. A piece of paper or a pipe of tobacco may 
be lighted by such a lens ; and it is to be observed, that a 
body of a black colour will be kindled most readily : a 
white- coloured substance is kindled with more difficult}^, 
as it reflects a great paii; of the light thrown upon it. The 
largest burning-glass ever known was that sent to the Em- 
peror of China in the embassy of Lord Macartney. A 
voyager to the North Pole is said to have made a large 
burning-glass of ice, which set fire to wood, to the great 
astonishment of the sailors ; and Plutarch informs us, that 
when the vestal virgins allowed the sacred fire to go out, 
they were obliged to kindle it by means of the rays of the 
sun collected by a burning-glass. — [See Ulust. Fig. 27.) 



Light was long thought to be a simple substance, but 



280 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

it lias been decomposed hj Sir Isaac Newton. He made 
the solar rays to pass through a triangular prism, and 
found that, from their different degrees of refraction, 
they were separated into the seven kinds of rays which 
are seen in the rainbow, — red, orange, yellow, green, blue, 
indigo, and violet.* The violet ray suffers the greatest 
refraction, and the red the least. The colour of any 
object, according to Sir Isaac Newton, is caused by its ■ 
being so constructed as to absorb certain rays, and to 
reflect others. Objects accordingly have no colour in the 
dark. White is occasioned by the body being so con- 
structed as to reflect all the seven primary colours. Black 
is occasioned by their absorption, and is, strictly speak- 
ing, the absence of aU colour. Hence, since light and 
heat are inseparably connected, white is the coolest dress 
in summer, and black the warmest. Hence, too, a person 
dressed in white is seen at some distance in the street at 
night, whilst a person in a dress of a dark colour is not. 
Men who go to shoot rabbits at night, rub the barrel of 
their guns with chalk that they may be able to take aim. 
In Italy, the houses are covered with a white plaster, to 
keep them cool ; and a whitened wall is supposed to ripen 
the fruit of trees fastened against it better than a mere 
brick wall. The most striking example of the decomposi- 
tion of light is that presented by the rainbow. This beau- 
tiful phenomenon is never seen but in the time of rain or 
near it, and when the sun shines. When a ray from the 
sun falls upon a drop of rain in a cloud, if it enter the 
upper part of the drop in a proper situation, it will, by 
refraction, be thrown upon the inner surface of the back 
part of the drop ; from thence it will be reflected to the 
lower part of the drop, at which place, undergoing a 
second refraction, it will be bent towards the earth ; and 



* The following simple experiment shows, that the seven primitive 
colours, when arranged in certain proportions, produce white : — Divide 
a circular piece of wood, as the rim of a top, into 360 equal parts ; 
paint 45 of these parts red, 37 orange^ 48 yellow, 50 green, 60 hlue^ 
40 indigo, and 80 violet; then make the top spin rapid! v. If the 
colours are pure, it will appear perfectly white. 



SECT. Vn. A COURSE OF READING. 281 

thus rays of the sun, after one reflection and two refrac- 
tions, may come to the eye of a spectator, whose back is 
towards the sun, and his face towards the drop. When 
rays which are effectual emerge from the drop after one 
reflection and two refractions, those which are most re- 
frangible will, at their emersion, make angles with the 
incident rays different from those which are least refran- 
gible ; by which means the rays that produce the sensa- 
tions of different colours will be separated from one another. 
Hence it may be easily perceived that some of the fallen 
globules may be in that position which will cause the rays 
that produce a red colour to fall upon the eye, — others 
next to them below will send forth orange-making rays, — 
the drops next to them will cast the yellow-making rays, 
— and those successively in order below them will refract 
the blue, indigo, and violet-making rays to the eye ; — and 
thus, in a certain space in the cloud, all the colours will 
appear ; and since, under the same angles, the same phe- 
nomena will be produced, therefore an arch of this various- 
coloured light must necessarily be produced in the clouds. 
— [See Illustrations^ Fig, 28.) 



A VESSEL sail'd from Albion's shore, 

To utmost India bound ; 
Its crest a hero's pendant bore, 

With broad sea-laurels crown'd ; 
In many a fierce and noble fight. 
Though foil'd on that Egyptian night, 

When Gallia's host was drown' d, 
And Nelson o'er his country's foes, 
Like the destroying angel rose. 

A gay and gallant company, 
With shouts that rend the air, 



* The Blenheim, commanded hy'^ir T. Troubridge, was separated 
from the vessels under its convoy in the Indian Ocean, and never was 
heard of more. The same officer's ship, at the battle of the Nile, had 
run aground as it was bearing down on the enemj. 

n2 



282 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. Vn. 

For warrior-wreaths upon the sea, 

Their joyful brows prepare ; 
But many a maiden's sigh was sent, 
And many a mother's blessing went, 

And many a father's prayer. 
With that exulting ship to sea. 
With that undaunted company. 

The deep, that, like a cradled child. 

In breathing slumber lay, 
More warmly blush'd, more sweetly smiled, 

As rose the kindling day ; 
Through ocean's mirror, dark and clear, 
Keflected clouds and skies appear 

In morning's rich array : 
The land is lost, the waters glow, 
'Tis heaven above, around, below. 

No fear the brave adventurers knew ; 

Peril and death they spum'd : 
Like full-fledged eagles forth they flew ; 

Jove's birds, that proudly burn'd 
In battle-hurricanes to wield 
His lightnings on the billowy field ; 

And many a look they tmu'd 
O'er the blue waste of waves to spy 
A Gallic ensign in the sky. 

But not to crush the vaunting foe, 

In combat on the main. 
Nor perish by a glorious blow, 

In mortal triumph slain. 
Was their unutterable fate ; 
— That story would the muse relate. 

The song might rise in vain ; 
In ocean's deepest, darkest bed. 
The secret slumbers with the dead. 

On India's long-expecting strand 

Then- sails were never furl'd ; 
Never on known or friendly land 

By storms their keel was hurl'd ; 
Their native soil no more they trod ; 
They rest beneath no friendly sod : 

Throughout the living world. 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OP READING. 283 

This sole memorial of their lot 
Remains — they were and they are not ! 

The Spii'it of the Cape pursued 

Their long and toilsome way ; 
At length, in ocean solitude, 

He sprung upon his prey ; 
" Havoc!" the shipwreck demon cried, 
Loosed all his tempests on the tide, 

Gave all his lightnings play ; 
The abyss recoil'd before the blast, 
Firm stood the seamen till the last. 

Like shooting stars athwart the gloom 

The merchant- sails were sped ; 
Yet oft, before its midnight doom, 

They mark'd the high mast-head 
Of that devoted vessel, tost 
By winds and floods, now seen, now lost ; 

While every gun-fire spread 
A dimmer flash, a fainter roar : 
At length they saw, they heard no more. 

There are to whom that ship was dear. 

For love and kindred's sake : 
When these the voice of Rumour hear, 

Their inmost heart shall quake. 
Shall doubt, and fear, and wish, and grieve, 
Believe and long to unbeHeve, 

But never cease to ache ; 
Still doom'd, in sad suspense, to bear 
The Hope that keeps alive Despair. 

Montgomery. 



THE DEATH OP CHRIST. THE MALIGNITY OF SIN. 

The importance of an event cannot be aecurately esti- 
mated by the degree of interest which it immediately 
excites. Many events which, on their occurrenQe, seemed 
big with the fate of generations, have passed by, and 
are forgotten ; while, on the other hand, the most exten- 



284 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

sive and lasting revolutions have often flowed from inci- 
dents apparently casual and trifling. The black clouds, 
which threaten a deluge, are often entirely dissipated, 
without leaving a trace behind of the impending tempest ; 
while a cloud, at first scarcely bigger than a man's hand, 
at last overspreads the firmament with darkness, and 
pours out an unexpected and desolating tempest. 

There is not to be found, in the history of the human 
racCj an instance in which apparent insignificance is more 
strongly contrasted by real importance, than that which 
is so simply recorded in the words, ^' Jesus yielded up 
the ghpst.^' In this event, if we look merely at its ex- 
ternal circumstances, there is nothing to secure remem- 
brance. Man's giving up the ghost is an event of daily, 
of hourly recurrence. There was indeed something pe- 
culiar in this case ; for Jesus died upon a cross. But is 
there anything uncommonly interesting in the fact, that 
a poor and unfriended Jew, accused by his countrymen 
of aspiring to temporal rule, or to divine honours, should 
fall a victim to their hatred, and expiate his supposed 
crimes by crucifixion? The severity of his punishment, 
when contrasted with the deficiency of the evidence on 
which he was condemned, might indeed be supposed to 
excite some degree of sympathy in the spectators ; but 
certainly the probability was, that every vestige of his 
existence would, in the course of a few years at the latest, 
perish from the earth. 

Yet this event, apparently so trivial, formed the grand 
and concluding action in a scene the most interesting 
and important which ever was, which ever will be, which 
ever can be exhibited on earth. Amid apparent mean- 
ness, there was real grandeur; amid seeming insignifi- 
cance, there was infinite importance. That Jesus who 
on the cross yielded up his spirit, was the only begotten 
Son of God in human nature. That life which he there 
laid down was the ransom of men innumerable. Heaven, 
earth, and hell, felt the Saviour's dying groan. From 
that event, consequences infinitely numerous, immensely 
important, and unspeakably interesting, haVe flowed. Rev- 



^. 7 



SECT. VIT. A COURSE OF READING. 285 

olutions, deeply affecting the present and the immortal 
interests of mankind, have been its result in this world ; 
while, among its consequences in the invisible state, faith 
beholds a guilty elect world restored to the favour of its 
Creator, the divine government vindicated, and the gates 
of paradise set open. While thrones the most ancient 
and stable have been crumbled into dust, and their proud 
possessors forgotten among men, — while the renown of the 
warrior and the statesman, the philosopher and the poet, 
has passed away, the death of Jesus on a cross is remem- 
bered with the profoundest veneration : And now, at the 
distance of nearly two thousand years since this decease 
was accomplished in Palestine, we, the inhabitants of a 
remote district in a distant island of the sea, have met 
together to celebrate a religious rite instituted for its 
commemoration.* Brown. 



The malignity of moral evil is evident from its oppo- 
sition to the character and will of Him who is essential 
holiness and truth : it involves, in its essence, the viola- 
tion of obligations inconceivably strong ; rebellion against 
the highest authority, and ingratitude for the greatest 
goodness : contempt for infinite condescension, and de- 
fiance to infinite power. Its malignity is written, too, in 
legible characters on the ills of life — sickness, disease, 
and pain — pestilence, famine, and war — disappointment, 
sorrow, and remorse — in the agonies of dissolution, and 
the torments of hell. But he who would see sin in all the 
hatefulness of its nature, and the hori'or of its deserts, 
must turn the eye of the mind to an incarnate, suffering, 
dying Saviour — to Bethlehem, to Gethsemane, and to 
Calvary. Behold Him, who is the brightness of his 
Father^s glory, and the express image of his person ; who 
is God over all blessed for ever, clothed in human nature, 
and leading the life of a man of sorrows ! Behold the 
Lord of angels insulted by ^ men, and tempted by the 

* This extract is taken from a sermon preached at the administra- 
tion of the Lord's Supper. 



286 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. YII. 

devil ! Behold the Son of God hanging on a cross, de- 
serted of his Father, and suffering the dreadful effects of 
his indignation, while nature shudders at the sight, and 
the sun hides his face from beholding a sight so horrible ! 
And then say if it is a light thing to violate the obliga- 
tions of the divine law, to contemn the authority of the 
God of heaven. Id. 



Oh ! never, never canst thou know 
What then for thee the Saviour bore, 

The pangs of that mysterious woe 
That wrung his frame at every pore, 

The weight that press' d upon his brow. 
The fever of his bosom's core ! 

Yes, man for man perchance may brave 

The horrors of the yawning grave, 

And friend for friend, or child for sire, 

Undaunted and unmoved expire, — 

From love — or piety — or pride ; — 

But who can die as Jesus died ? 

A sweet but soHtary beam. 

An emanation from above. 
Glimmers o'er life's uncertain dream, 

We hail that beam and caU it love ! 
But fainter than the pale star's ray 
Before the noontide blaze of day. 
And lighter than the viewless sand 
Beneath the wave that sweeps the strand. 
Is all of love that man can know, — 
All that in angel-breasts can glow, — 
Compared, Lord of Hosts ! with thine, 
Eternal — fathomless — divine ! Dale. 



MOTIONS OF THE EARTH, MOON, AND PLANETS. 

Tutor. Charles. 

T. Now, my young friend, that you have finished your 
perusal of the little treatise on astronomy that I gave 
you, I mean to put your understanding and memory a 



SECT. Vn. A COURSE OF READING. 287 

little to the test, by asking a few questions respecting its 
contents. You recollect the names and natures of the 
different heavenly bodies ? 

(7. They are divided into fixed stars, planets, and 
comets. The fixed stars are supposed to be suns, the 
planets inhabited worlds like our own, and the comets — 
their nature is not so well understood ; they are gen- 
erally remarkable, however, for their luminous tails, the 
velocity of their motions, and the eccentricity of their 
orbits. 

T, The planets, you know, have each two motions, a 
diurnal, round their axis, and an annual, round the sun 
— can you mention the effects which these motions respec- 
tively produce ? 

(7. The former causes the vicissitude of day and night, 
the latter the succession of the seasons. 

T. Were the axis of the earth perpendicular to its 
orbit, would these changes occur exactly as at present ? 

C. In that case there could be no variety in the length 
of the day and night at any one point of the earth's sur- 
face, and very little, if any, change of season. 

T. In its motion round the sun the axis of the earth 
is always inchned at the same angle to the plane of its 
orbit — ^how does this account for the difference of the 
length of the days and for the seasons ? 

(7. At the spring equinox both poles are equidistant 
from the sun, and the solar rays fall directly on the equa- 
tor ; the inhabitants of both temperate zones are in the 
same state as to temperature, so are the inhabitants of 
both frigid zones ; and the length of the day and night 
is necessarily equal all over the world. But when the 
earth reaches that part of her orbit, when it is midsum- 
mer to us and to all the inhabitants of the northern 
hemisphere, the north pole is turned towards the sun, 
the south pole turned from him, and the solar rays fall 
directly upon the northern tropic. There is consequently 
continual day in the north frigid, long days and short 
nights in the north temperate, and total darkness in the 
south frigid zone. At the autumnal equinox, the earth 



288 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VII. 

is in nearly the same situation as at the vernal ; and, at our 
mid-winter, the south pole is turned to the sun, and the 
north pole turned from it.* — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 29.) 

T. Now give me, if you please, an equally distinct 
account of the phases of the moon. 

(7. When the new moon is first seen from the earth, 
she appears a slender crescent on the left of the sun, 
with the convex side turned towards him. As she re- 
cedes from the sun, the crescent gradually increases in 
breadth. When she has performed an eighth part of her 
revolution round the earth, she is said to be in her first 
octant, and appears a quarter-moon. In less than four 
days after this she is in her quadrature, and has the form 
of a half-moon. After the same interval of time she reaches 
her second octant, and becomes gibbous, or exhibits an 
intermediate figure between half and full moon. In a few 
days she assumes a form completely round, and is in op- 
position to the sun, and is seen upon the meridian at 
midnight. After this she begins to decrease in size, and 
presents, in succession, but in an inverted order, precisely 
the same forms which she exhibited when on the increase, 
with this difference, that the side of the disc which was 
first illuminated now first disappears. In about eleven 
days after full moon, she is seen in the morning, on the 
right of the sun, in the shape of a thin crescent, with her 
convex side towards him as at first ; and after this she 
gradually disappears. About six days afterwards she 
reappears on the other side of the sun, and exhibits again 
the same changes. — [See Illustrations , Fig. 30.) 

jT. Of course you have taken it for granted that these 
phases are owing to the moon's being an opaque body, and 
deriving her light from the sun. Indeed the same ap- 
pearances are exhibited by carrying an ivory ball, or small 
globe, round a lighted candle. With such an accurate 
conception of the relative position of the sun, earth, and 
moon, you found, I presume, no difl&culty in comprehend- 
ing the doctrine of eclipses ? 

* These changes are very well illustrated by Jones's Portable Orrery. 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 289 

C. An eclipse of the sun is occasioned by the body of 
the moon being interposed between the sun and the spec- 
tator, and consequently can happen only when the moon 
is in conjunction, or at new moon. An eclipse of the 
moon is produced by the moon passing through the earth's 
shadow, and can therefore happen only when the moon 
is full, or in opposition to the sun. 

T. But why then do not eclipses happen at every new 
and full moon ? 

C This would be the case, if the moon's orbit coin- 
cided, or was in the same plane with the earth's orbit ; 
but as the moon's orbit is inclined to that of the earth at 
an angle of above 5°, it follows that the moon, earth, and 
sun, can only be in the same plane at the time of passing 
the nodes, that is, when the two orbits cross each other. 
Now, the moon can be in the nodes only twice in the 
course of a revolution ; consequently she may perform a 
number of revolutions before she finds the sun exactly on 
that point of the ecliptic when she cuts it, or on the point 
immediately opposite; therefore a central eclipse, either 
of the sun or moon, must occur very seldom. Partial 
eclipses must happen more frequently. 

. T, Are the sun and moon, as seen from the earth, al- 
ways of the same apparent magnitude ? 

C, No. Both the sun and moon vary both in appa- 
rent magnitude and in apparent velocity ; and when their 
apparent magnitude is greatest, their apparent velocity is 
also greatest. These appearances, too, are easily explain- 
ed : the earth and moon (and the same thing is true of 
all the planets) do not move in circular but in elliptical 
orbits. The sun is in one of the foci of the earth's orbit, 
and the earth is in one of the foci of the moon's orbit ; 
consequently the sun and moon are nearer, and therefore 
appear larger, at one time than at another. 

T. The planets Mercury and Venus are called inferior^ 
and the planets Mars, Jujpiter, Saturn, and Herschel, 
superior^ because the orbits of the former are within that 
of the earth j and those of the latter without it ; — do you 



290 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. 711. 

remember any points of distinction between their apparent 
motions ? 

(7. The former are always found in the immediate 
neighbourhood of the sun, the latter recede from him to 
all distances ; the former are never seen in opposition, or 
on the meridian at midnight, the latter frequently ; the 
former are observed occasionally to cross the sun's disc 
when in conjunction, the latter never. In one point, 
however, there is a remarkable agreement between the 
two ; the apparent motion of all the planets is sometimes 
direct^ sometimes retrograde, and sometimes stationary. 

T» Are all these phenomena satisfactorily accounted 
for on the supposition that the planetary bodies all move 
in orbits more or less circular round the sun ? 

(7. Yes; and they can be explained on no other 
supposition. The fact, that the superior planets are 
seen in opposition, proves that the earth moves between 
them and the sun, and . the fact, that the inferior planets 
are occasionally seen crossing the sun's disc, as plainly 
proves that they move between the earth and the sun. 
The change of apparent motion, too, is an equally con- 
vincing proof of their actual revolution round the sun; 
for the same appearances may be observed in an orrery, 
where a number of balls are made to revolve round a 
central body. 

T, I doubt not you were very much interested in 
tracing the apparent motions of Venus, the morning and 
evening star. 

(7. They seemed at first somewhat complex ; but, now 
that I understand the real motions, I have no diffi- 
culty with them ; shall I describe them ? — About two 
months after her inferior conjunction, Venus begins to 
appear in the gleam of the evening twilight about lO'' 
on the left of the sun. She continues to recede from 
him night after night, till her angular distance is about 
47°, after which she begins to approach him again, and 
continues to move towards him till her angular distance 
is about 28°. She now appears to become stationary for 



SECT. Vn. A COURSE OF READING. 291 

a little, and afterwards commences a retrograde motion. 
In a few days she is hid in his rays in the evening, and 
continues invisible about six weeks, when she is again 
seen in the morning on the other side of the sun, disen- 
gaging herself from his rays and retiring from him. She 
is now coming from her inferior conjunction, and is called 
the morning star. Appearances nearly the same occur 
until she comes again to her superior conjunction, after 
which she is again the evening star. The time she takes 
to perform an entire revolution is about eighteen months. 
T, I shall not detain you longer at present. At some 
future opportunity I may examine you on your know- 
ledge of the theory of gravitation, the causes of the celes- 
tial motions, and the phenomena of the tides ; but I am 
already satisfied that you have perused the little treatise 
on astronomy with great attention and perfect intelli- 
gence. 



DETACHED SELECTIONS FROM COWPER. 

HOW unlike the complex works of man, 

Heaven's easy, artless, unencumbered plan ; 

No meretricious graces to beguile, 

No clustering ornaments to clog the pile ; 

From ostentation as from weakness free, 

It stands like the cerulean arch we see, 

Majestic in its own simplicity. 

Inscribed above the portal, from afar 

Conspicuous as the brightness of a star, 

Legible only by the light they give. 

Stand the soul- quickening words — Believe and live. 



Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door. 
Pillow and bobbins all her little store ; 
Content though mean, and cheerful if not gay, 
Shuffling her threads about the hvelong day, 
Just earns a scanty pittance, and at night 
Lies down secure, her heart and pocket Hght ; 
She, for her humble sphere by nature fit, 
Has Httle understanding, and no wit, 



292 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

Eeceives no praise ; but, though her lot be such, 
(Toilsome and indigent) she renders much ; 
Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true, — 
A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew ; 
And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes 
Her title to a treasure in the skies. 

happy peasant ! Oh unhappy bard ! 
His the mere tinsel, hers the rich reward ; 
He praised perhaps for ages yet to come, 
She never heard of half a mile from home : 
He lost in errors his vain heart prefers, 
She safe in the simplicity of hers. 



There lives and works 
A soul in all things, and that soul is God. 
The beauties of the wilderness are His, 
That make so gay the solitary place. 
Where no eye sees them. And the fairer forms. 
That cultivation glories in, are His. 
He sets the bright procession on its way. 
And marshals all the order of the year ; 
He marks the bounds, which winter may not pass, 
And blunts his pointed fury ; in its case, 
Russet and rude, folds up the tender germ, 
Uninjured, with inimitable art ; 
And, ere one flowery season fades and dies. 
Designs the blooming wonders of the next. 
The Lord of all, himself through all diffused. 
Sustains, and is the life of all that lives. 
Nature is but a name for an effect, 
Whose cause is God. One spirit — His, 
Who wore the platted thorns with bleeding brows, 
Rules universal nature. Not a flower 
But shows some touch, in freckle, streak, or stain. 
Of his unrivaird pencil. He inspires 
Their balmy odours, and imparts their hues. 
And bathes their eyes with nectar, and includes, 
In grains as countless as the seaside sands. 
The forms with which he sprinkles all the earth. 
Happy who walks with him ! whom what he finds 
Of flavour or of scent in fruit or flower. 



7^ 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 293 

Or what he views of beautiful or grand 
In Nature, from the broad majestic oak 
To the green blade that twinkles in the sun, 
Prompts with remembrance of a present God. 



— And seems it nothing in a father's eye. 

That unimproved the hours of boyhood fly ? 

And is he well content his son should find 

No nourishment to feed his growing mind 

But conjugated verbs, and nouns declined ? 

Perhaps a father, blest with any brains. 

Would deem it no abuse, or waste of pains, 

To improve this diet, at no great expense. 

With savoury truth and wholesome common sense ; 

To lead his son, for prospects of delight. 

To some not steep, though philosophic height, 

Thence to exhibit to his wondering eyes 

Yon ckcling worlds, their distance, and their size ; 

The moons of Jove, and Saturn's belted ball, 

And the harmonious order of them all ; 

To show him in an insect, or a flower. 

Such microscopic proof of skill and power, 

As, hid from ages past, Grod now displays, 

To combat atheists with in modem days ; 

To spread the earth before him, and conunend. 

With designation of the finger's end, 

Its various parts to his attentive note, 

Thus bringing home to him the most remote ; 

To teach his heart to glow with generous flame, 

Caught from the deeds of men of ancient fame : 

And, more than all, with commendation due, 

To set some living worthy in his view. 

Whose fair example may at once inspire 

A wish to copy what he must admire. 

Such knowledge gain'd betimes, and which appears, 

Though solid, not too weighty for his years. 

Sweet in itself, and not forbidden sport, 

When health demands it,^ of athletic sort, 

Would make him — what some lovely boys have been. 

And more than one perhaps that I have seen — 



294 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VII. 

An evidence and reprehension both 

Of the mere schoolboy's lean and tardy growth. 



Patron of all those luckless brains, that, to the wrong side 

leaning, 
Indite much metre with much pains, and little or no meaning : 
Ah why, since oceans, rivers, streams, that water all the na- 
tions. 
Pay tribute to thy glorious beams, in constant exhalations, 
Wliy, stooping from the noon of day, too covetous of drink 
Apollo, hast thou stolen away a poet's drop of ink ? 
Upborne into the viewless air it floats a vapour now, 
ImpeU'd through regions dense and rare, by all the winds 

that blow, 
Ordain'd perhaps ere summer flies, combined with millions 

more, 
To form an Iris in the skies, though black and foul before. 
Illustrious drop ! and happy then beyond the happiest lot. 
Of all that ever pass'd my pen, so soon to be forgot ! 
Phoebus, if such be thy design, to place it in thy bow. 
Give wit, that what is left may shine with equal grace below. 



WONDERS OF VISION. 

Let me suppose myself stationed on Arthur^s Seat, in 
the vicinity of Edinburgh. Turning my face to the 
north - west, the city, "with its castle, spires, and stately 
edifices, presents itself to my view. Beyond it, on the 
north and west, a beautiful country, adorned with villas, 
plantations, and fertile fields, stretches as far as the eye 
can reach, till the view is bounded by the Castle of Stir- 
ling, at a distance of more than thirty miles. On the 
right hand I behold the port of Leith, the shipping in 
the roads, the coast of Fife, the isles of Inchkeith and 
May, and the frith of Forth gradually losing itself in the 
German Ocean. 

Now let me consider first the immense multitude of rays 
of reflected light which flow, in aU directions, from the 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 295 

objects wliicli compose this scene. In order to form a rude 
idea of tliis infinity of radiations, I fix my attention on a 
single object. I direct my eye to Nelson^s Monument, on 
the Calton Hill. From tlie parapet at tbe top a thousand 
different points send forth a thousand different cones of 
rays, which, entering my eye, render the different parts 
of it distinctly visible. How many thousands of millions, 
then, of different radiations, must be issuing forth every 
moment from the whole mass of the monument ! And if 
one object pours forth such a flood of rays, how immense 
must be the number of radiations which are issuing from 
all the objects which compose this extensive landscape ! 
But this is not all'; these millions of rays, which flow from 
the minutest points of the surrounding scene, before they 
can produce the sensation of vision, and form a picture of 
the landscape on the retina, must all pass through the small 
aperture of the eye without the least confusion, and paint the 
images of their respective objects in exactly the same order 
in which these objects are arranged. — [See Illust Fig, 31.) 
Let me now attend to the small space within which, 
the images are depicted at the bottom of my eye. All 
the objects I am now surveying, comprehending an ex- 
tent of a thousand square miles, are accurately delineated 
in the bottom of my eye, on a space less than half an inch 
in diameter. How delicate, then, must be the strokes of 
that Divine pencil which has formed such a picture ! I 
turn my eyes to the castle of Edinburgh, which appears 
one of the most conspicuous objects in my field of view. 
Supposing that portion of it which strikes my eye to be 
500 feet long, and 90 in height, I find, by calculation, 
that it occupies only the six-hundred-thousandth part of 
the whole landscape, and consequently fills in my eye 
no more than the twelve -hundred -thousandth part of 
an inch. I next direct my eye towards the frith of Forth, 
and perceive a steam-boat sailing between QueensfeiTy 
and Newhaven. I distinctly trace its motion for the 
space of 40 minutes, at the end of which it reaches the 
chain-pier at Newhaven, having passed over a space of 
five miles in length, which is but the eighth part of the 



296 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

lineal extent of the landscape in that direction ; and, con- 
sequently, occupies, in the picture formed on my retina, 
a lineal space of only one-sixteenth of an inch in extent. 
And, if the boat be reckoned about 88 feet in length, its 
image is only the three-hundredth part of this extent; 
aad, of course, fills a space in the eye of only the four- 
thousand- eight-hundredth part of a lineal inch. Yet my 
perception of the motion of the vessel could be produced 
only by a corresponding motion of its image in my eye ; 
that is, by the gradual motion of a point ^sVoth of an inch 
in diameter, over a sjDace one-sixteenth of an inch in length. 
How inconceivably fine and accurate, then, must be the 
impression which the rays of light produce on the retina of 
the eye ! How delicate must be the strokes of that Divine 
pencil which forms such a picture ! Dick. 



THE ART OF PRINTING. 

Various cities have claimed the honour of this inven- 
tion ; but it is now generally admitted to be due to Haer- 
lem, a town in Holland. It is attributed to Laurence 
Koster, an alderman of that city, in 1440. Amusing 
himself one day in the neighbouring wood, with cutting 
the bark of trees into the letters that formed the initials 
of his name, he is said to have laid them on paper, and 
afterwards observed, that from the dew their form was 
impressed on the paper. This accident induced him to 
make further experiment ; he next cut his letters in 
wood, and, dipping them in a glutinous liquid, impressed 
them on paper, which he found an improvement; and 
soon after, substituting leaden and pewter letters, erected 
a press in his house ; thus laying the foundation of this 
noble art, which has thence gradually risen to its present 
excellence. The art, it is said, was stolen from him by 
his servant, John Faustus, who conveyed it to Mentz, 
and, from the novelty of the discovery, soon acquired the 
title of doctor and conjuror. 

By the gradual improvement of this art, and its ap- 
plication to the diflfusion of knowledge, a new era has 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 297 

been formed in the annals of the human race. In the 
flourishing ages of Greek and Roman literature, none but 
persons of rank and property could acquire any know- 
ledge of letters ; and this must have ever continued to be 
the case, had not this invention, by reducing books to less 
than a hundredth part of their former price, facilitated 
the diflFiision of knowledge. We have it from good author- 
ity, that about a. d. 1215, the Countess of Anjou gave 
200 sheep, five quarters of wheat, and the same quantity 
of rye, for a volume of sermons ; and it is also upon rec- 
ord, that the value of manuscript Bibles commonly was 
from 400 to 500 crowns, — a sum which, according to the 
relative value of money then and now, could not be less 
than as many pounds sterling at the present day. How 
trifling would be the literary attainments of the people 
of modern Europe, if such a state of things still existed ! 
The typographic art has contributed infinitely more to 
the improvement of the human mind, and the civilisa- 
tion of the species, than aU the speculations and discov- 
eries of philosophy. To it we owe the Reformation from 
Popery — the rank we occupy as a nation — the sublime 
discoveries of science — the blessed diffusion of religion. 
And if ever the benefactors of mankind deserved to have 
statues erected to their honour, the inventors of the art 
of printing are certainly the men ; for of all events which 
have ever happened among mankind, this invention con- 
stitutes, next to the establishment of Christianity, the 
most interesting and important. 



THE mariner's COMPASS. — [See niustraticns^ Fig. 32.) 

The invention of the compass is usually ascribed to 
Flavio Gioia, of Amalfi, in Campania, about the year 
1302 ; and the Italians are strenuous in supporting this 
claim. Others affirm, that Marco Polo, a Venetian, 
having made a journey to China, brought back the in- 
vention with him in 1260. The French also lay claim 
to the honour of this invention, from the circumstance 
that aU nations distinguish the north point of the card by 



298 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VII. 

a fleur de lis ; and, with equal reason, the English have 
laid claim to the same honour, from the name compass^ 
by which most nations have agreed to distinguish it. 
But, whoever were the inventors, or at whatever period 
this instrument was first constructed, it does not appear 
that it was used in navigation in Europe before the year 
1420, or only a few years before the invention of printing. 

In consequence of the discovery of this instrument, 
the coasts of almost every land on the surface of the 
globe have been explored, and a regular intercourse be- 
tween the most distant nations opened. The fate of the 
great human families indeed has been in a gTeat measure 
decided by navigation. Is not the perpetual infancy of 
the Chinese owing chiefly to their ignorance of this art ? 
On the contrary, if the Japanese and the Malays exhibit 
a character manly and enterprising, in comparison of that 
of other Asiatics, it was formed at the epoch when their 
squadrons traversed the great eastern ocean, which is at 
present filled with their colonies. What has kept the 
people of Africa stationary in ignorance but their inland 
situation, their destitution of gulfs and arms of the sea, 
their inaccessibility to navigation ? What has given their 
ascendency to the European nations but their knowledge 
of navigation, and the aptitude of their countries for car- 
rying it on ? Since the compass and Columbus appeared, 
has not a new world seen our vessels land on its shores — 
has not a new Europe arisen — and has not the Atlantic 
ocean become what the Mediterranean was before, the 
great highway and thoroughfare of the civilized world ? 

But the march of civilisation is far from being ter- 
minated; the wonders we have witnessed may still be 
surpassed. The Europeans have not confined themselves 
to the shores of that Atlantic ocean which, immense as 
it appeared to the Phoenician and the Greek navigators, 
is only an arm of the sea, compared to that great ocean 
which, under the names of the Indian, the Pacific, and 
the Eastern, extends from pole to pole. The Ameri- 
can navigators have already crossed the whole of this 
aquatic hemisphere — already British colonists have begun 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 299 

to settle in the innumerable islands whicli form, to the 
south-east of Asia, a fifth part of the world; and Aus- 
tralasia, the most dehghtful country of the globe, will 
probably, ere many ages pass away, have reached the 
highest pinnacle of civilisation. Let another Cadmus 
carry thither that torch of religion and science which en- 
lightens Europe ! Let colonists, fraught with our leam- 
ing, found a new Greece in Otaheite or the Pelew Isl- 
ands, then those rising grounds, which now produce only 
aromatic herbs, will be covered with towns and palaces : 
bays, now shaded by a forest of palms, will display a forest 
of masts ; gold and marble will be extracted from the 
bowels of mountains as yet untouched by the miner ; 
coral and pearls will be dragged from the bottom of the 
sea to adorn the new capitals; and one day, perhaps, 
Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, will find equals and 
rivals in countries, whose existence at this moment 
scarcely occupies their attention. 



THE ENGLISH IN PORTUGAL. 

A VARIOUS host they came^ — whose ranks display 
Each mode in which the warrior meets the fight ; 
The deep battahon locks its firm array, 
And meditates his aim the marksman hght ; 
Far glance the lines of sabres flashing bright, 
"^Tiere mounted squadrons shake the echoing mead — • 
Lacks not artillery breathing flame and night, 
Nor the fleet ordnance wMrl'd by rapid steed, 
That rivals hghtning's flash, in ruin and m speed. 

A various host — from kindred realms they came, 
Brethren in arms, but rivals in renown — 
For yon fan* bands shall meny England claim, 
And with their deeds of valour deck her crown. 
Hers then' bold port, and hers then* martial fi'own, 
And hers their scorn of death in freedom's cause, 
Then- eyes of azure, and their locks of brown, 
And the blunt speech that bursts ^vithout a pause, 
And fi'eeborn thoughts, which league the soldier with the laws. 

And, oh ! loved warriors of the Minstrel's land ! 
Yonder your bonnets nod, your tartans wave ! 



300 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VII. 

The rugged form may mark the mountain band, 
And harsher features, and a mien more grave ; 
But ne'er in battle-field throbb'd heart so brave 
As that which beats beneath the Scottish plaid ; 
And when the pibroch bids the battle rave, 
And level for the charge your arms are laid, 
Where lives the desperate foe that for such onset staid ! 

Hark ! from yon stately ranks what laughter rings, 
Mingling wild mirth with war's stern minstrelsy, 
His jest while each Withe comrade round him flings, 
And moves to death with military glee : 
Boast, Erin, boast them ! tameless, frank, and free^ 
In kindness warm, and fierce in danger known, 
Rough Nature's children, humorous as she ; 
And He, yon Chieftain — strike the proudest tonfi 
Of thy bold harp, green Isle ! — the Hero is thine own. 

Sir Walter Scott. 



THE destruction OF SENNACHERIB. 

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; 
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, 
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, 
That host with their banners at sunset were seen : 
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, 
That host on the morrow lay witlier'd and strown. 

For the Angel of Death spread liis wings on the blast. 
And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd ; 
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill, 
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew stiU I 
And there lay the steed with his nostril aU wide. 
But tlirough it there roU'd not the breath of his pride : 
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, 
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. 

And there lay the rider distorted and pale. 
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail ; 
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone. 
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 301 

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, 
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; 
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord ! 

Byron. 



THE ANIMAL ECONOMY CONTINUED. FISHES, INSECTS. 

Fishes. — So far as the structure and functions of fishes 
have been ascertained, their external and internal con- 
formation appear admirably adapted to their element and 
mode of life. Their shape, it cannot escape the most 
careless observer, is finely fitted to cleave their native 
deeps with the least possible resistance. The use of their 
fins and tail, too, is obvious ; and the belly-fins cannot ap- 
pear unnecessary, when it is recollected that their centre 
of gravity lies near the back, and that without some kind 
of feet they would float with their backs downward. 

But some of their parts display contrivance which can- 
not be understood without closer examination. The gills, 
placed on each side of the neck, are the organs by w^hich 
they breathe. In this operation they fill their mouth 
with water, which they throw backward with so mucli 
force as to lift open the great flap, and force the water 
out behind. And in the passage of this water, all or at 
least the greater part of the air contained in it is left 
behind, and carried into the body to perform its part in 
the animal economy. The air-dladder, which lies in the 
abdomen, along the course of the backbone, is an admi- 
rable contrivance for enabling them to increase or diminish 
their specific gravity, and thus sink or rise in the water. 
If they want to sink, they compress this bladder by 
means of their abdominal muscles, so that the bulk of 
their body is diminished. If they want to rise, they re- 
lax the pressure of the muscles, the air-bladder again ac- 
quires its natural size, the body is rendered more bulky, 
and they ascend towards the surface. Fish which are 
destitute of air-bladders have little facility of raising 
themselves in the water. The greater number of them 
consequently remain at the bottom, unless the form of 



302 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

their body enables them to strike the water downward 
with great force. This the skate, the thornback, and 
other species of rays^ do with their large pectoral fins, 
which act upon the water in the same manner as the 
wings of birds do upon the air.* 



Insects, — All insects (except the apterous tribe, which 
proceed nearly in a perfect state from the Qgg) undergo 
a metamorphosis at three dificrent periods of their exis- 
tence. The lives of these minute creatures, in their per- 
fect state, is in general so short, that the parents have 
seldom an opportunity of seeing their living offspring ; 
consequently they are neither provided with milk, like 
viviparous animals, nor impelled to sit upon their eggs, 
like birds. In place of these, the all- directing Power 
has endowed them with the astonishing faculty of being 
able to discover what substance is fitted to afford the 
food proper for their young, though that food is, for the 
most part, totally different from that which the parent 
itself would eat. Some of them attach their eggs to the 
bark, or insert them into the leaves of trees and other 
vegetable substances ; others form nests, which they store 
with insects or caterpillars, that will attain the exact 
state in which they may afford proper food for their young 
ones when they shall awaken into life ; others convey 
their eggs into the body, and even into the internal vis- 
cera, of larger animals ; others drop them into the water, 
an element in which they could not themselves subsist. 
From the eggs of all insects proceed what are called 



* The fishes were divided by Linnaeus into six orders : — 1. Apodal, 
with bony gills, and no ventral fins, as the eels. 2. Jugular, with bony 
gills, and ventral fins before the pectoral ones, as the cod and haddock. 
3. Thoracic, with bony gills, and ventral fins placed directly under 
the thorax, as the turbot, sole, perch, and mackerel. 4. Abdominal, 
with bony gills, and ventral fins placed behind the thorax, as the 
salmon, pike, herring, and carp. 5. Branchiostegous, with gills des- 
titute of bony rays, as the pike-fish and the lump -fish. 6. Condrop- 
terygious, with cartilagmous gills, as the sturgeon, shark, skate, and 
lampron. 



SECT. Vn. A COURSE OF READING. 303 

larvae^ grubs, or caterpillars. These consist of a long 
body, covered with a soft, tender skin, divided into seg- 
ments or rings. In this larva state some insects remain 
for months, others for a year, and some even for two or 
three years ; and they are, in general, exceedingly vora- 
cious, oftentimes devouring more than their own weight 
in the coui'se of a day. As soon as their parts become 
perfected, they fix upon some convenient place for under- 
going the change into what is called pupa^ aurelia, or 
chrysalis. This is generally a place where they are safe 
from aggression, as in their transformation they have 
neither strength to resist, nor swiftness to avoid, the 
attack of an enemy. The Power which instructed the 
parents to deposit their eggs in a proper receptacle, 
directs the offspring to secm'e and appropriate situations 
for their future defenceless state. Some of them spin 
webs or cones, in which they enclose themselves ; others 
wrap themselves up in leaves of vegetables ; and many 
conceal themselves beneath the surface of the earth. Pre- 
paratory to the transformation, they cease to take any 
food ; and when the change is at hand, many of them may 
be observed alternately extending and contracting their 
bodies, as if disengaging themselves from the catei-pillar 
skin. In their chrysalid state they remain for some time 
apparently inanimate, though actually in possession of life ; 
and as soon as they have acquired strength sufficient to 
break the bonds that surround them, they exert their power, 
and appear in their perfect state. For a little time they 
continue humid and weak ; but as the humidity evapo- 
rates, their wings and shell become hardened, and they 
soon afterwards commit themselves with safety to their 
new element. — [See Illustrations^ Fig, 33.) 

" Were a naturalist to announce," say Messrs Kirby 
and Spence, " the discovery of an animal which, for the 
first ^YQ years of its life, existed in the form of a ser- 
pent ; which then, penetrating into the earth and weaving 
a shroud of the finest texture, contracted itself within 
this covering into a body resembling more than anything 
else an Egyptian mummy; and which, lastly, after re- 



304 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VII. 

maining in this state without food and motion for three 
years longer, should burst its silken cerements, and start 
into day a winged bird, what a sensation would be ex- 
cited by such strange intelligence : The metamorphoses 
of the insect world are equally strange and surprising. 
That butterfly, which amuses you with its aerial excur- 
sions, one while extracting nectar from the tube of the 
honeysuckle, and then, the very image of fickleness, fly- 
ing to a rose, as if to contrast the hue of its wings with 
the colour of the flower, did not come into the world as 
you now behold it. At its first exclusion from the eggj 
and for some months afterwards, it was a worm-^like cater- 
pillar, crawling upon sixteen short legs, greedily devour- 
ing leaves with two jaws, and seeing by means of twelve 
eyes so minute as to be nearly imperceptible. You view 
it now furnished with wings capable of rapid and ex- 
tensive flights ; of its sixteen feet ten have disappeared, 
and the remaining six are wholly unlike those to which 
they have succeeded; its jaws have vanished, and are 
replaced by a curled-up proboscis suited only for sipping 
liquid sweets ; the form of its head is entirely changed ; 
two long horns project from its upper surface ; and in- 
stead of twelve invisible eyes, you behold two, very largo, 
and composed of at least 20,000 convex lenses, each sup- 
posed to be a distinct and effective eye. Dissect the 
animal, and compare its original internal conformation 
with its present, you will witness changes still more ex- 
traordinary. Nearly the whole body of the caterpillar 
was occupied by a capacious stomach ; the butterfly has 
only an almost imperceptible threadlike viscus ; the ab- 
domen is now filled by two large packets of eggs : in the 
former, two spirally- convoluted tubes were filled with a 
silky gum ; in the latter, both tubes and silk have al- 
most totally vanished ; and changes equally great have 
taken place in the economy and structure of the nerves 
and other organs. What a surprising transformation ! 
Nor was this all. The change from one form to another 
was not direct : a state not less singular intervened. 
After casting its skin, even to its very jaws, several times, 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 305 

and attaining its full growth, the caterpillar attached it- 
self to a leaf by a silken girth. Its body greatly con- 
tracted, its skin once more split asunder, and disclosed 
an oviform mass, without exterior mouth, eyes, or limbs, 
and exhibiting no other symptom of life than a slight 
motion when touched. In this state of torpor the insect 
existed for many months, until at length the tomb burst ; 
and out of a case not more than an inch long, and a 
quarter of an inch in diameter, proceeded the butterfly 
before you, which covers a surface of nearly four inches 
square.^' 

The same authors have drawn a beautiful analogy be- 
tween the difierent states of insects and those of the 
human soul. The butterfly, the representative of the soul, 
is prepared in the larva for its future state of glory ; and 
if it be not destroyed by the ichneumons and other ene- 
mies to which it is exposed, — symbolical of the sins 
which destroy the spiritual life of the soul, — it will come 
to its state of repose in the aurelia^ which is its Hades ; 
and at length, when it assumes the imago, which is its 
heavenly existence, break forth with new power and 
beauty to its final glory.* 



COMPOUND BODIES CONTINUED. ALLOYS, SALTS. 

Alloys, — Metals do not combine with one another in 
their solid state, owing to the influence of chemical 
affinity being counteracted by the force of cohesion. It is 
necessary to liquefy at least one of them, in which case 



* Linnaeus has divided insects into seven orders, — Coleoptera, 
Hemiptera, Lepidoptera, Neuroptera, Hymenoptera, Diptera, and 
Aptera. The first two have their wings defended by a pair of hard 
crustaceous cases called elytra / the three subsequent orders have four 
membranaceous wings without elytra ; the insects of the sixth order 
have but two wings, and under each of these, at its base, a poise or 
balancer, which seems to be of the same use to insects as a long pole, 
loaded at each end with lead, is to a rope-dancer ; the seventh class in- 
cludes all insects that are destitute of wings, as spiders, &c. 

o2 



306 A COURSE OP READING. SECT. VH. 

they always unite, provided their mutual attraction is 
energetic. Thus brass is formed when pieces of copper 
are put into melted zinc ; and gold unites with mercury 
at common temperatures by mere contact. Metals ap- 
pear to unite with one another in every proportion, pre- 
cisely in the same manner as sulphuric acid and water. 
Thus there is no limit to the number of alloys of gold 
and copper. 

Alloys are analogous to metals in their chief physical 
properties. They are opaque, possess the metallic lustre, 
and are good conductors of electricity and caloric ; but 
they often diflfer materially in some respects from the ele- 
ments of which they consist. The colour of an alloy is 
sometimes diflferent from that of its constituents, of which 
brass is a remarkable example. The hardness of a metal 
is in general increased by being alloyed, and for this 
reason its elasticity and sonorousness are frequently im- 
proved. The malleability and ductility of metals, on the 
contrary, are usually impaired by combination. Their 
fusibility and their tendency to unite with oxygen are 
considerably augmented by being alloyed. 

It is of importance to be acquainted with the principal al- 
loys. — Equal parts oftin and lead constitute an alloy which 
is more fusible than either separately, and is the common 
solder of the plumbers and tinsmiths. Tin alloyed with 
small quantities of antimony, copper, and bismuth, forms 
the best kind of pewter. An alloy of three parts of lead to 
one of antimony constitutes the substance of which types 
for printing are made. Copper forms with tin several 
valuable alloys, which are characterized by their sonorous- 
ness. Bronze is an alloy of copper with about eight or 
ten per cent, of tin, together with small quantities of other 
metals which are not essential to the compound. Can- 
nons are cast with an alloy of a similar kind. The best 
bell-metal is composed of 80 parts of zinc and 20 of tin ; 
— the Indian gong, celebrated for the richness of its tones, 
contains copper and tin in this proportion. The specu- 
lum-metal^ with which mirrors for telescopes are made, 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 307 

consists of about two parts of copper and one of tin. The 
best brass consists of four parts of copper to one of zinc ; 
and when the latter is in a greater proportion, compounds 
are generated which are called Tombac^ Dutch-gold^ and 
Pinchbeck, Turner. 



Salts, — By the term salt chemists mean, in general, a 
definite compound of an acid, and an alkaline or salifiable 
base, both of which are in every case composed of at least 
two simple substances. Sulphate of potash, for instance, 
is a salt, the acid of which consists of oxygen and sulphur, 
and the base of oxygen and potassium. As every acid, 
with few exceptions, is capable of uniting with every 
alkaline base, and frequently in two or more proportions, 
it is manifest that the salts must constitute a very nu- 
merous class of bodies. Their properties are well deserv- 
ing of attention. Nearly all salts are solid ; their colour 
is very variable. Those that are soluble are more or less 
sapid, while those that are insoluble in water are insipid. 
Few of them are possessed of odour ; the only one which 
is remarkable for this property being the carbonate of 
ammonia. Salts differ remarkably in their affinity for 
water. Thus, some salts, such as the nitrates of lime and 
magnesia, are deliquescent^ that is, attract moisture from 
the air and become liquid. Others, which have a less 
powerful attraction for water, undergo no change when 
the air is dry, but become moist in a humid atmosphere ; 
and others may be exposed without change to an atmo- 
sphere loaded with w^atery vapour. They differ likewise 
in the degree of solubility in water. Some dissolve in 
less than their weight of water; while others require 
several hundred times their weight of this liquid for 
solution, and others are quite insoluble. This difference 
depends on two circumstances, — ^the degree of their affinity 
for water, and their cohesion ; their solubility being in 
direct ratio with the first, and in inverse ratio with the 
second. Salts which are' soluble in water crystallize 
more or less regularly when their solutions are evapo- 
rated, and the form which they assume in crystallizing 



308 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

constitutes an excellent character by which they may be 
distinguished from one another. Many of them, too, 
during the act of crystaUizing, unite chemically with a 
definite portion of water, which forms an essential part 
of the crystal, and is termed the water of crystallization^ 
and those which contain water of crystallization produce 
the greatest degree of cold during the act of dissolving 
in water ; though most salts occasion a reduction of tem- 
perature during solution, especially if they are dissolved 
rapidly and in large quantity. 

The best known and most useful of the salts is muri- 
ate of soday or culinary salt ; it abounds in the waters of 
the ocean, and chiefly occasions their peculiar taste. It 
is likewise found, in great abundance, in various parts of 
the globe, in a dry state. At Northwich, in England, is 
a salt mine, which yields 4000 tons of rock-salt a-year; 
and in Spain there is a remarkable solid mountain of salt, 
500 feet high and a league in circuit ; its depth below 
the surface of the earth being unknown. The shape of 
its crystals is a regular cube. Its taste is well known. 
It dissolves in 2|- parts of water, whether it be cold or 
boiling. It is not affected by exposure to the atmosphere. 
When heated, it breaks with a crackling noise, which 
phenomenon is termed decrepitation. By a greater heat 
it may be fused, and by a still greater volatilized; but 
heat cannot decompose it ; for, after volatilization, it re- 
mains muriate of soda. 



DETACHED SELECTIONS FROM VARIOUS POETS. 

Upon thy mother's knee, a new-born child, 
Weeping thou satst, whilst all around thee smiled ; 
So live, that, sinking into death's long sleep, 
Calm thou mayst smile, while all around thee weep. 

Sir W. Jones. — From the Persian ofHafiz. 



And wherefore is the sweet spring tide 
Worth all the changeful year beside ! 
The last-born babe — why lies its part 
Deep in the mother's inmost heart ? 



SECT. Vn. A COURSE OF READING. 309 

But that the Lord and Source of love 
Would have his weakest ever prove 
Our tenderest care, — and, most of all, 
Our frail immortal souls — His work and Satan's thrall ! 

Keble. 



Like leviathans afloat 

Lay their bulwarks on the brine ; 

While the sign of battle flew 

On the lofty British line r 

" Hearts of oak ! " our captains cried ; when each gun 

From its adamantine lips 

Spread a death-shade round the ships, 

Like the hurricane-eclipse 

Of the sun. 

Again ! again ! again ! 

And the havoc did not slack, 

Till a feeble cheer the Dane 

To our cheering sent us back ;^— 

Their shots along the deep slowly boom : — 

Then ceased^— and all is wail, 

As they strike the shattered sail y 

Or, in conflagration pale, 

Light the gloom* — 

Now joy, Old England, raise t 

For the tidings of thy might, 

By the festal cities' blaze. 

While the wine-cup shines in light ; 

And yet, amidst that joy and uproar, 

Let us think of them that sleep, 

Full many a fathom deep, 

By thy wild and stormy steep, 

Elsinore ! Campbell. 



Three hosts combine to offer sacrifice ; 
Three tongues prefer strange orisons on high ; 
Three gaudy standards flout the pale-blue skies ; 
The shouts are France, Spain, Albion, Victory ! 
The foe, the victim, and the fond ally 
That fights for all, but ever fights in vain, 
Are met — as if at home they could not die — 



310 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

To feed the crow on Talavera's plain, 
And fertilize the field that each pretends to gain. 

There shall they rot — Ambition's honoured fools ! 
Yes, Honour decks the turf that wraps their clay ! 
Vain Sophistry ! in these behold the tools, 
The broken tools, that tyrants cast away 
By myriads, when they dare to pave their way 
With human hearts — to what ? — a dream alone. 
Can despots compass aught that hails their sway ? 
Or call, with truth, one span of earth their own, 
Save that wherein at last they crumble bone by bone ? 

Byron. 



Who should lament for him within whose heart 

Love had no place, nor natural charity ? 

The parlour spaniel, when she heard his step, 

Eose slowly from the hearth, and stole aside 

With creeping pace : she never raised her eyes 

To woo kind words from him, nor laid her head 

Upraised upon his knee, with fondling whine. 

How could it be but thus ! Arithmetic 

Was the sole science he was ever taught ; 

The multiplication-table was his creed. 

His paternoster, and his decalogue. 

When yet he was a boy, and should have breathed 

The open air and sunshine of the fields. 

To give his blood its natural spring and play, 

He in a close and dusky counting-house 

Smoke-dried, and sear'd, and shrivell'd up his heart. 

So, from the way in which he was train' d up, 

His feet departed not ; he toil'd and moil'd, 

Poor muckworm ! through his threescore years and ten ; 

And when the earth shall now be shovell'd on him, 

If that which served him for a soul were still 

Within its husk, 'twould still be dirt to dirt. 

SOUTHEY. 



Thou art sounding on, thou mighty sea, for ever and the same ! 
The ancient rocks yet ring to thee, whose thunders nought can 
tame. 



SECT. Vn. A COURSE OF READING. 311 

Tlie Dorian flute that sigh'd of yore along thy wave, is still ; 

The harp of Jiidah peals no more on Zion's awful hill. 

And Memnon's, too, hath lost the chord that breathed the 
mystic tone ; 

And the songs at Rome's high triumphs pour'd are with her 
eagles flown ; 

And mute the Moorish horn that rang o'er stream and moun- 
tain free. 

And the hymn the learn' d Crusaders sang hath died in Galilee. 

But thou art swelling on, thou deep, through many an olden 
clime, 

Thy billowy anthem ne'er to sleep until the close of Time ! 

Mrs Hemans. 



Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell, — 

Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave, — 

Then some leap'd overboard with dreadful yell, 
As eager to anticipate their grave ; 

And the sea yawn'd around her like a hell, 

And down she suck'd with her the whu'ling wave. 

Like one who grapples with his enemy. 

And strives to strangle him before he die. 

And first one universal shriek there rush'd. 

Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash 
Of echoing thimder ; and then all was hush'd. 

Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash 
Of billows ; but at intervals there gush'd. 

Accompanied with a convulsive splash, 
A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry 
Of some strong swimmer in his agony. Byron, 



True happiness has no localities ; 
No tones provincial, no peculiar garb. 
A^Tiere duty goes, she goes ; with justice goes ; 
And goes with meekness, charity, and love. 
Where'er a tear is dried ; a wounded heart 
Bound up ; a bruised spirit with the dew 
Of sympathy anointed ; or a pang 
Of honest suffering soothed ; or injury 
Repeated oft, as oft by love forgiven ; 



312 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VH. 

Where'er an evil passion is subdued, 

Or Virtue's feeble embers found ; where'er 

A sin is heartily abjured and left • 

There is a high and holy place, a spot 
Of sacred Hght, a most religious fane. 
Where happiness descending, sits and smiles. 

POLLOK. 



MUTUAL DEPENDENCE OF THE FUNCTIONS OF ANIMALS. 

The communication of a new faculty renders necessary 
of course the provisioii of a new apparatus for the faculty ; 
not only so, but it also requires a modification of the 
faculties already existing and common to both. This may 
be illustrated by tracing the manner by wMch it was 
necessary to modify the function of nutrition which is 
common to both vegetables and animals on the communi- 
cation of the particular faculty of voluntary motion. The 
vegetable is fixed to one spot, and is therefore constantly 
in contact with its aliment, and needs no organs for con- 
taining it. But animals possess the property of locomo- 
tion, and cannot absorb their nourishment from the earth. 
They require, therefore, tlie means of transporting along 
with themselves the aliment necessary for their support. 
This necessity accounts for the internal cavity (the ali- 
mentary canal) with which the higher animals are furnish- 
ed, and for the absorbent vessels which, attached to the 
walls of this cavity, convey the nutrient particles to the 
body. The cavity, with its contents, is to the animal 
what the soil is to the vegetable; its absorbing vessels 
constitute the internal roots of the animal. In conse- 
quence of nutrition ceasing to be the mere imbibition of 
sustenance from the soil or the atmosphere, preparatory 
operations become necessary to apprehend the food, to 
divide it, and to fit it for its common receptacle. These 
operations, you know, constitute digestion, which is thus 
a function of a secondary order, a modification of that 
peculiar function of nutrition which the faculty of locomo- 
tion renders indispensable. A second modification arises 
out of the necessity of conveying the nutrient matter to 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING . 313 

different parts of the body. There must be a circulation 
of the nutritive fluid, consequently vessels must be pro- 
vided to contain it ; an engine must be constructed capable 
of propelling it into these various passages and cavities. 
Thus a circulation, with all the organs necessary to per- 
form the function, is also connected with the faculty of 
voluntary motion. Nor does the matter stop here ; a 
communication must be established between the digestive 
organs and the vessels which carry on the circulation. 
Thus the absorbents, which by one extremity are in com- 
munication with the intestines, and by the other with a 
main trunk of the circulating system, are also rendered 
indispensable. But the aliment, after it has undergone 
all the operations to which it is subjected in the digestive 
organs, is not fit for the purpose of nutrition, till, by an- 
other process, its heterogeneous particles are converted 
into one common nature. The function by which this is 
effected, you know, is respiration. A distinct organ for 
the function of respiration is thus another complication 
rendered necessary by a general circulation. In this 
manner you may perceive how the addition of one sub- 
ordinate faculty, that of- locomotion, creates the necessity 
for numerous subordinate expedients in order to complete 
it ; that there is no such thing in the animal economy as 
an arbitrary disposition of parts, but that there is wisdom, 
beauty, and beneficence visible in every adjustment. 



THE QUANTITY OF MATTER IN THE UNIVERSE. 

The earth is a globe about 8000 miles in diameter, and 
25,000 in circumference; and, consequently, its surface 
contains nearly two hundred millions of square miles, — a 
magnitude too great for the mind to take in at one con- 
ception. In order to form a tolerable conception of the 
whole, we must endeavour to take a leisurely survey of 
its different parts. Were we to take our station on the 
top of a mountain of a moderate size, we should perceive 
an extent of view stretching 40 miles in every direction, 
forming a circle 80 miles in diameter, and 250 in circum- 



314 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

ference, and comprelieiiding an area of 5000 square miles. 
In such a situation, the scene around us, consisting of 
hills and plains, towns and villages, rivers and lakes, 
would form one of the largest objects which the eye, or 
even the imagination, can steadily grasp at one time. 
But such an object, grand and extensive as it is, forms 
no more than the forty -thousandth part of the terraque- 
ous globe; so that, before we can acquire an adequate 
conception of the magnitude of the world, we must 
conceive 40,000 landscapes of a similar extent to pass 
in review before us ; and, were a scene of equal magni- 
tude to pass before us every hour, and were twelve 
hours a- day allotted for the observation, it would require 
9 years and 48 days before the whole surface of the globe 
could be contemplated, even in this general and rapid 
manner. 

These remarks apply to the earth as a mere superficies. 
But the earth is a solid globe ; and its solid content is 
no less than 259,332,805,350 cubical miles, — a mass of 
material substance, in proportion to which all the lofty 
mountains which rise above its surface are less than a 
few grains of sand when compared with the largest arti- 
ficial globe. Were the earth a hollow sphere, surrounded 
merely with an external shell, 10 miles thick, its inter- 
nal cavity would be sufficient to contain a quantity of 
materials one hundred and thirty-three times greater than 
the whole mass of continents, islands, and oceans, on its 
surface, and the foundations on which they are supported. 
We have the strongest reasons, however, to conclude, that 
the earth, though not a solid mass from the surface to the 
centre, has, at least, a solid exterior crust of two or 
three hundred miles in thickness. What an enormous 
mass of materials, then, is comprehended within the 
limits of that globe on which we tread ! How great 
must be the power of that Being who commanded it 
to spring from nothing into existence, who " measures 
the ocean in the hollow of his hand, who weigheth 
the mountains in scales, and hangeth the earth upon 
nothing I'' 



SECT. VII. A COURSE OF READING. 315 

When we contemplate, by the light of science, those 
magnificent globes which float in the concave of the sky, 
the earth, with all its sublime scenery, stupendous as it 
is, dwindles into an inconsiderable ball. If we pass from 
our globe to some of the other bodies of the planetary 
system, we shall find, that one of these stupendous orbs 
is more than 900 times the size of our world, and en- 
circled with a ring which would nearly reach from the 
earth to the moon; and that another is of such a size, 
that it would require 1500 globes of the bulk of the earth 
to form one equal to it in dimensions. The whole of the 
bodies which compose the solar system (without taking 
the sun and the comets into account) contain a mass of 
matter about 2500 times greater than that of the earth. 
The sun himself is 520 times larger than all the planet- 
ary globes taken together ; and one million three hundred 
thousand times larger than the terraqueous globe. 

If we extend our views from the solar system to the 
starry heavens, we have to penetrate, in our imagination, 
a space which the swiftest ball that was ever projected, 
though in perpetual motion, would not traverse in ten 
hundred thousand years. In those trackless regions of 
immensity we behold an assemblage of resplendent globes 
similar to the sun in size and in glory, and, doubtless, 
accompanied with a retinue of worlds, revolving, like our 
own, around their attractive influence. The immense 
distance, at which the nearest stars are known to be 
placed, proves that they are bodies of a prodigious size, 
not inferior to our own sun, and that they shine, not by 
reflected rays, but by their own native light. But bodies 
encircled with such refulgent splendour would be of little 
use in the economy of Jehovah's empire, unless surround- 
ing worlds were cheered by their benign influence. Every 
star is therefore concluded to be a sun, no less spacious 
than ours, surrounded by a host of planetary globes, 
which revolve around it as a centre, and derive from it 
light, and heat, and comfort. ^ Nearly a thousand of these 
luminaries may be seen in a clear winter night by the 
naked eye ; so that a mass of matter equal to a thousand 



316 A COURSE OF READING. SECT. VII. 

solar systems, or to thirteen hundred and twenty millions 
of glohes of the size of the earthy may be perceived, by 
every common observer, in the canopy of heaven. But 
all the celestial orbs which are perceived by the unassisted 
sight do not form the eighty-thousandth part of those 
which may be descried by the help of optical instruments. 
Dr Herschel has informed us that, when exploring the 
most crowded parts of the Milky-way, with his best 
glasses, he has had fields of view which contained no 
less than 588 stars, and these too continued for many 
minutes ; so that " in one quarter of an hour's time, 
there passed no less than one hundred and sixteen thou- 
sand stars through the field of view of his telescope.^' It 
has been computed, that nearly one hundred millions of 
stars might be perceived by the most perfect instruments, 
were all the regions of the sky thoroughly explored. And 
yet all this vast assemblage of suns and worlds, when 
compared with what lies beyond the utmost boundaries 
of human vision, in the immeasurable spaces of creation, 
may be no more than the smallest particle of vapour to 
the immense ocean. 

Here, then, with reverence, let us pause and wonder ! 
Over all this vast assemblage of material existence God 
presides. Amidst the diversified objects and intelligences 
it contains, he is eternally and essentially present. At 
his Almighty fiat it emerged from nothing into existence ; 
and by his unerring wisdom all its complicated move- 
ments are perpetually directed. Surely that man is little 
to be envied who is not impressed, by such contempla- 
tions, with a venerable and overwhelming sense of Creative 
Power. Dick. 



^..n 



APPENDIX. 



PREFIXES, AFFIXES, ATO PRINCIPAL LATIN AND GREEK ROOTS 
OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.* 

(2b he committed to Memory^,} 



I. PREFIXES. 

1, OF ENGLISH OR SAXON ORIGIN. 



A, on or in, as a-foot, a-bed. 

Be, about, as besprinkle ; also/or 
or before, as bespeak. 

En, in or on, as encircle; also 
make, as enfeeble. {Bn is 
changed into em in roots be- 
ginning with 6 or jp, as embark, 
e7??power.) 

Fore, before, sls foresee. 

Mis, error or defect, as misdeed. 

Out, excess or superiority^ as 
outvxm. 



Over, eminence or excess, as over- 
cbarge. 

Un, before an adjective or adverb, 
signifies not, as wnworthy, un,-f 
before a verb, signifies the un- 
doing of tbe act expressed by 
the verb, as wnfetter. 

Up, motion upwards, as wpstart ; 
also subversion, as upset. 

With, from or against, as z^?i^^- 
draw, z^i^^stand. 



2. OP LATIN ORIGIN. 



A, ab, abs, from or away, as 
avert, absolve, a&stain. 

Ad, to, as adheve. {Ad assumes 
the various forms of a, ac, af, 
ag, al, an, ap, ar, as, at, ac- 
cordmg to the commencing let- 
ter of the root with which it is 
joined, as ascend, accede, a/fix, 
aggrandize, aZlot, annex, appeal, 
arrest, assume, attract.) 

Am, round about, as ambient. 



Ante, before, as an^cedent. 

Circum, round or about, as cir- 
c^^mnavigate. ( Circum also 
takes the form circu^ as cir- 
cuit.) 

Cis, on this side, as cisalpine. 

Con, together, as convoke. {Con 
takes also the various forms of 
CO, cog, col, com, cor, as co-op- 
erate, co^ate, coZlect, co?nmo- 
tion, correlative.) 



* Those who are desirous to aequh*e further information on this im- 
portant subject may consult the Author's Manual of English Grammar. 

t Un is sometimes prefixed to a verb without altering the sense ; as, 
loose, unloose. 



-X 



318 



Contra, against^ as contradict. 
{Contra sometimes takes the 
form counter, as counterhal- 
ance.) 

De, down, as (Rejected. 

Dis, asunder, as distrsict, also 
negation or undoing, as (disarm. 
{Bis has also the forms of di 
and dif, as (diverge, £?^y*fuse.) 

E, ex, out of, as egress, exclude. 
{JE, ex, take also the form of 
ec, ef, as eccentric, e/flux.) 

Extra, beyond, as eo^^raordinary. 

In, before an adjective, signifies 
not, as Inactive; in, before a 
verb, signifies in or 2?2^o, as in- 
ject, (in has also the various 
forms of ig, il, im, ir, as ig- 
noble, ^71uminate, import, irra- 
diate.) 

Inter, between, as intervene. 

Intro, to, within, as introduce. 

Juxta, nigJi to, as juxtaiposition. 

Ob, in the way of, or opposition, 
as obstacle. {Ob has also the 
various forms of oc, of, o, op, os, 
as occur, q/fend, omit, oppose, 
ostentation. 

Per, through or thoroughly, as 



j?erforate, perfect. {Per has al- 
so the form of pel, as pelhxcid. 

Post, q/iJer, as j?05fdiluvian. 

Pre or prse, before, as predict. 

Preter or prseter, pasi or beyond, 
as preternatural. 

Pro, for, forth, or forward, as 
pronoun, provoke, proceed. 

Re, &acZ; or again, as retract, re- 
build. 

Retro, backwards, as retrospect. 

Se, asiJe or apart, as secede. 

Sine, without, as sinecure. (/S'i^ze 
has also the form of sim and 
sw, as simple, siTzcere.) 

Sub, under or after, as sw^side. 
(/S^z^?) has also the forms of sue, 
suf sug, sup, sus, contracted 
for subs, as sitcceed, suffuse, 
suggest, suppress, swspend.) 

Subter, under or beneath, as sub- 
terfuge. 

Super, above or over, as super- 
fluous. {Super has also the 
French form sur, as sur- 
mount.) 

Trans, over from one place to an- 
other, as transport. 

Ultra, beyond, as t^Z^ramundane. 



3. OF GREEK. ORIGIN. 



A or an, loithout or privation, as 
apathy, anonymous. 

Amphi, both or the two, as amphi- 
bious. 

Ana, through or up, as anatomy. 

Ariti, against, as ^n^ichrist. 
(J^n/i has sometimes the con- 
tracted form of ant, as antarctic.) 

Apo, from or away, as apostasy. 
{Apo has sometimes the con- 
tracted form of ap, as aphelion.) 

Cata, down, as catarrh. {Cata 
has also the form of cat, as 
cafechise.) 

Dia, through, as cZiaphanous. 

Epi, upon, as epitaph, (^i has 
also the form of ep, as ephem- 
eral.) 



Hyper, over and above, as hyper- 
critical. 

Hypo, under, as 7i?/pothesis. 

Meta, change, as metamorphosis. 
{Meta has also the form of met, 
as method.) 

Para, near to, or side by side as if 
for the purpose of comparison, 
and hence sometimes similar- 
ity, and sometimes contrariety, 
paradox. {Para has also the 
form of par, as parody.) 

Peri, round about, as periph- 
rasis. 

Syn, together, as synthesis. {Syn 
has also the forms sy, syl, sym, 
as system, syllogism, sym^a,- 
thy.) 



319 



II. AFFIXES. 



An 

Ant 

Ar 

Ard 

Ary 

Eer 

Ent 

Er 

1st 

Ive 

Or 

Ster 

Ate 

Ee 

Ite 



denoting the agent or doer of a 
thing, 



1 denoting the person acted upon 
> and equivalent to the passive 
3 termination ed^ 



ipon^ C 
live -< 



as Comedian 
Assista?!^ 
Liar 

Drunkard 
Advers ar?/ 
Charioteer 
Correspondent 
Builder 
Psalmist 
Representative 
Governor 
Gamester 

as Delegare 
Trustee 
Favoun'/e 



Acy 

Age 

Ance 

Ancy 

Ence 

Ency 

Hood 

Ion 

Ism 

Ment 

Mony 

Ness 

Ry 

Ship 

Th 

Tude 

Ty or ity 

Ure 

Y 

Dom 
Ric 



denoting heing or state of being 
taken abstractly, 



} 



denoting jurisdiction, 



as luunacg 
FsLventage 
Vigila?ice 
Brillia?zcj?/ 
Adherence 
Consistency 
Boyhood 
Cohesion 
Heroism 
Abasement 
Acri?no???/ 
Bald?ze5s 
Rivalr?/ 
LordsA?*p 
Wsirmth 
^exYitude 
Pover^?/,brev% 
Legislatii?'e 
Master?/ 

( as Kingdom 
(^ Bishopric 



Cle 

Kin 

Eet 

Ling 

Ock 



diminutive termii^ations, 



as CorpuscZe 
Lamb/jzn 
StreamZe^ 
DuckZina 
Hilloc^b 



320 



Ac -] 

Al 

An 

Ar 

Ary 

En 


^ denoting 0/ or _^er/amw^ to, ^ 


' as Elegiae 
AutumnaZ 
Sylvan 
Polar 

Parliamentary 
Golden 


Ic or ical 
lie 
Ine 
Cry 




Angelic or angeKcaZ 
Infanti7e 
Infantme 
Olfactori/ 


Ate 1 

Ful 

Ose 

Ous 

Some 

Y 


>■ denoting /wZ? 0/ or dbun- ■> 
dance, 


' as Aflfectiona^e 
Care/wZ 
Verbose 
ZealoMs 
Toilsome 
Flower?/ 


Ish 

Like 


I- denoting likeness, 


( as Childts)^ 
Qodilike 
( BoldierZy 


Ive denoting capacity in an active sense^ 


as Persuasive 


Able \ denoting capacity in a pas- ( as Lauda6Ze 
Ible j sive sense, \ Eligi6Ze 


Less 


denoting privation. 


as Worthless 


Ish 


denoting a smaller degree of, 


as Greenish 


Ate 
En 

Ish 
Ise 
Ize 


denoting to maTce, 


' as Perpetuate 
Harden 
VuTify 
StabHs^ 
Modernise 
Civilize 


Escent 


denoting progression. 


as Convalescent 


Ly 


denoting like in quality, 


as TruZy 


Ward 


denoting in the direction of. 


as Downit'ar<? 



821 



III. latin; roots with their English 

REPRESENTATIVES. 



ACR 



AVI 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Acris, sharp 




acri 


acnmony 


Acuo, I sharpen, 


acutus, 


acu, acut 


ocMmen, acute 


sharpened 








Aedes, a house 




edi 


edify, edi^CQ 


Aequus, equal 




equ, equi 


equaxnmity, e^'mlibrium 


Aer, air 




aeri 


a€ml, aeriform. 


Aether, the sky 




ether 


eiherQdX 


Aevum, an age 




ev 


coeval 


Ager, agri, a field 




agri 


a^rnculture 


Agger, a heap 




agger 


exa^rgrerate 


Ago, I do, actus, done 


ag, act 


a^ent, actov 


Ala, a wing 




ali 


oZzped 


Alacer, cheerful 




alacr 


alacritj 


Alienus, belonging to an- 
other 


alien 


alien, aliensitQ 


Alo, I nourish 




ali 


aliment 


Alter, another 




alter 


alteration 


Altus, high 




alt 


e^alt, aZritude 


Amicus, a friend 




amic, imic 


amicable, inimical 


Amo, I love 
Amor, love 


j-am, arnoT 


a?niable, amorous 


Amplus, large 




ampli 


amplify 
anguish, anxiety 


Ango, anxi, I vex 




ang, anx 


Angulus, a comer 




angul, angl 


angular, triangle 


Animus, mind 




anim 


animate, unanimous, 
animadvert 


Annus, a year 




arm^ annu^ enni 


annals, annual, hiennial 


Antlquus, ancient 




antiqu 


antique 


Aperio, I open, 

opened 
Apto, I fit 


apertus, 


aperi^ apert 


aperient, apertuie 




aj^t 


adaptation 


Aqua, water 




aqua, aque 


aquatic, aqueduct 


Arbiter, a judge oi 


•umpire 


arbiter^ arhitr 


arbiter, arbitrary 


Arbor, a tree 




arbor J arbour 


arboraceous, arbour 


Arceo, I drive away (erceo 


ere 


coercion 


when compounded) 






Arma, arms 




arm 


army, armistice 


Aro, I plough 




ar 


arable 


Ars, artis, art 




art, ert 


artful, inert. 


Ai-tus, the joints 




arti 


articulate 


Asper, rough 




asjper 


asperity, exasperate 


Audio, I hear, 

heard 
Augeo, I increase 


auditus. 


audi, audit 


audience, audit, auditory 


auctus, 


aug, aucty auth 


augment, auction, author 


increased 








Auspex, auspicis, 


a sooth- 


auspio^ 


auspicious 


sayer 








Avidus, greedy 




avid 


avidity 


Avis, a bird 




avi 


amaxj 



BAC 



322 



COL 



Boot and Meaning. 
Bacchus, the god of wine 
Barba, a beard 
Beatus, blessed 
Bellum, war 
Bellus, beautiful 
Bene, well 
Bibo, I drink 
Bini, two bj two 
Bis, twice 
Brevis, short 
Cado, I fall, casus, fallen 

(changed into cido when 

compounded) 
Caedo, I cut, csesus, cut 

(changed into cido and 

cisus when compounded) 
Calor, heat 
Calx, ealcis, lime 
Campus, a plain 
Cando, I set on fire, census, 

inflamed 
Canis, a dog 
Cano, canto, I sing 
Capillus, hair 
Capio, I take, captus, taken 

(cipio and ceptus when 

compounded) 
Caput, capitis, the head 
Career, a prison 
Caro, carnis, flesh 
Carus, dear 
Cavus, hollow 
Cedo, I give place, I go, 

cessio, a giving place to 
Celer, swift 
Centum, a hundred 
Cera, wax 
Cerno, I see, I sift, cretus, 

sifted 
Certus, certain 
Cete, whales 
Charta, paper 
Cinctus, girt about 
Cio, I call, I summon 
Civis, a citizen 
Clamo, I cry out 
Clarus, clear 
Claudo, I shut, clausus, 

shut (changed into cludo 

and clusus when com- 
pounded) 
Clemens, mild or merciful 
Clino, I bend 
Clivus, a slope 
Coelura, heaven 
Colo, I cultivate, cultus, 

cultivated 



Representative. 


Example. 


hacch 


bacch^anaX 


larh 


barbj barber 


heati 


beatitude 


belli, lei 


belligeTent, rebel 


hell 


embellish 


lene 


Jeriediction 


Ub 


imbibe, wine-6i6ber 


bin 


com&ination 


U 


Jiped 


brev 


brevity, abbreviate 


cady casu, cid 


cadaYerous, casual, ae- 




ctc^ent 


cidj CIS 


homicufe, inmion, pr«- 




056 


calor 


calone 


calc 


calcsLreovLS 


camp, champ 


encamp, champaiga 
inca7M?escence, incense. 


candy cens, cend 




incendiary 


can 


canine 


cant, cent 


canticles, precentor 


capill 


capillaxj 


cap, cip, dpi, 


capable, anticzjpate, re- 


capt, cept 


cipient, capture, recep- 




tion 


capit, cipii 


capital, -precipitate 


career 


incarcerate 


cam 


incarnate, carnivorous 


car 


caress 


cav 


excavate, concave 


ced, ceed, cess 


recede, succeed, conces- 




sion, access 


celer 


accelerate, celerity 


cent 


century, centennial 


cer 


cerements 


cern, cret, creet 


discern, secredon, discreet 


certi 


certify 


cet 


cetaceous 


chart 


chart, charter 


cinct 


succinct, -precincts 


cit 


cite, citation 


civi 


civil, civilize 


clam, claim 


excZa?7iation, procZaim 


clar, clari 


decZare, clarify 


clud, claus, clus 


exclude, clause, seclusion 


clemen 


clemency 


din 


recline 


cliv 


declimty 


eel 


celestial 


col, cult 


colony, cultxyxe 



COL 



323 



BBE 



Root and Meaning. 


Representatlre. 


Example. 


Colossus, a statue of enor- 


coloss 


colossal 


mous size 






Comes, comitis, a com- 


comit 


concomitant 


panion 
Commodus, convenient 


commod 


accommodSate 


Communis, common 


commun 


communicAiQ 


Copia, plenty 


copi 


copious 


Coquo, I boil, coctus, boiled cooh^ coct 


cooh, decoction 


Cor, cordis, the heart 


cord 


concord?, corcfial 


Corau, a horn 


corn, comu 


unicorw, corTmcopia 


Corpus, corporis, the body 


corpusy corpor, 


C07^w5cle, incorporate, 




corpu 


corpulent 


Cras, to-morrow 


cras 


procrastinate 


Credo, I trust 


cred 


credity creofulous, cre^ble 


Cremo, I bum 


crem 


incrcTTiation 


Crepo, I make a noise 


crep 


decrejJitation 


Cresco, I grow 


cresc, creas 


excrescence, increase 


Crimen criminis, a charge 


crimin 


criminal 


Crux, crucis, a cross 


cruci 


cruci^ 


Cube, I lie {cumbo when 


Ctt2>, cumb 


incM&ation, incwmJent 


compounded) 






Culina, a kitchen 


culin 


culinSiTY 


Culpa, a fault, culpo, I find 


culp 


citable, cvZpnt 


fault with 






Cumulus, a heap 


cumul 


acctfm«Ziate 


Cura, care 


cura^ cur 


curator, sinecure 


Curro, I run 


cur^ curr 


1 incur, curricle, succour, 


Cursus, a running 


cour, cursy cours y excursion, intercowr^e 


Curtus, short 


curt 


curtaM 


Curvus, crooked 


euro 


curve 


Cutis, the skin 


cuti 


cutielQ 


Damno, I condemn 


damn, dcmn 


cZamTiable, condemn 


Datus, given (ditus when 

compounded) 
Decor, decor is, grace, 

beauty 
Dens, dentis, a tooth 


dit 


aidditiou 


decor 


decorous, decoration 


dent 


dentist, dentifrice 


Densus, thick 


dens 


density, condeTise 


Deus, a god 


Dei 


Deity, deify 
dexterity, dea^rous 


Dexter, right-handed, 

clever 
Dico, I say, dictus, said 


dexter 


diet 


predicf, dict&tQ 


Dies, day 


di 


dial, diary, meridian 
dignity, dignitary 


Dignus, worthy 


digni 


Dimidium, half (Fr. demi) 


demi 


dcTTw-god 


Diumus, daily 


diurriy joum 


diurnal. Journal 


Doceo, I teach, doctus, 


doCy doct 


docile, doctor 


taught 






Doleo, I grieve 


dot 


condole 


Dolor, grief 


dolor 


dolorous 


Dominus, a master 


domin 


domineer, cfonwnican 


Domus, a house 


dam 


domestic, domicile 


Donum, a gift 


don 


donation 


Duco, I lead, ductus, led 


due, )iuct 


indiice, aqueduct 


Duo, two 


du 


dual, duel 


Durus, hard 


dw 


duralile 


Ebrius, drunken 


tbri 


4brietj, ineJnate 



EDO 



S24 



imA 



Root and Meaning. 
Edo, I eat 
Ego, I 
Emo, I buy, emptus, 

bought 
Emulus, a rival 
Erro, I wander 
Exter, outward 
Faber, a workman 
Facies, the face 
Facilis, easy 



Representative. 

ed 

ego 

eem, empt 

emul 

err 

exter 

fdbr 

faci^ fid 

fadil^ facul^ ficnl 



Facio, I make, fio, I am fact^fectjfit,fiCj 
made, factus, made (ficio fy 
and fectus when com- 
pounded) 
Fallo, I deceive fall 

Fames, hunger fam 

Fanum, a temple j^n, fan 

Fari, to speak, fatus, hav- fa, fat 

ing spoken 
Felix, felicis, happy felic 

Femina, a woman femin 

Fero, I carry fer 



Example. 
edihle 
egotist 
redeem, exemption 

emulsition, emuloxis 

aberration 

eaj^emal 

fahria 

facial, supe^/tc^al 

/act7itate, faculty, dif- 

ficulty 
factor, per/ecf, bene^f, 

sopori^c, "pvxify 



Fervio, I boil 


fero 


Fidelis, faithful 


fidel 


Fido, I trust 


fid 


Filia, a daughter 


}fiU 


Filius, a son 


Filum, a thread 


fil 


Fingo, I feign, 


fictus, fig.fi^t 


feigned 




Finis, an end 


fin 



Firmus, strong firm 

Fiscus, the imperial treasury /sc 
Fissus, cleft fiss 

Flagro, I bum flagr 

Flatus, a puff of wind flat, ftatu 

Flecto, I bend, flexus, bent fleet, flex 
Fligo, I dash, flictus, flict 

dashed 
Flos, fioris, a flower flor 

Fluctus, a wave fluctu 

Fluo, I flow, fluxus, a flu, flux 

flowing 
Foedus, foederis, a treaty feder 
Folium, a leaf foli, foil 

Foro, I bore for 

Fors, fortis, chance fort 

Fortis, strong fcyrti 

Fossa, a ditch foss 

Fossus, dug foss 

Frango, I break, fractus, frag, fract, 

broken (fringo when firing 

compounded) 
Frater, a brother f rater, fratn 



in/aZZible 
^TTiine 

pro/awation, pro/ane 
inef/able, fat^ 

felicity 

feminine, effeminsicy 
ferry, infer, circumfer- 
ence 
fervid., effervescence 
fldeTity 
confide, dig^cZence 

filidl, aifiliate 

filsiment 

figment, fiction, petitions 

^nal, ^wite, de^mte, de^- 

mtive 
confirm 

fiscal, con^5cate 
^S5ure 

flagrant, conflagratiort 
in^afion, ^a^wlent 
reflect, ^eajible 
conflict 

florist, floral 
fluctuate 
fluent, reflux 

confederate 
foliate, trefoil 
per/brate 
fortnitona 
fortify 
fosse 
fossil 

fragment, fracture, in- 
fringe 

fraternal, fratricide 



FBI 



325 



HUM 



Root and Meaning. Repwsentatiye. 

Frigeo, I am cold ^g 

Frons, frontis, the forehead frontis^ front 
Fnictus, fruit fructi 

Fruor, I enjoy fru 

Frustra, in vain frustr 

Fugio, I flee, fugitus, fled fug.fugii 
Fulgeo, I shine fulg 

Fulmen, fulminis, lightning fnlmin 
Fumus, smoke fum 

Functus, having performed fund 
Fundo, I pour out, fusus, fundyfus 

poured out 
Fundus, the bottom of any- fund^ found 

thing 
Gallus, a cock gall 

Gelu, frost gd^ geat^ gelai 



Gens, gentis, a nation 

Genu, a knee 

Genus, generis, kind or 
kindred, genera, kinds 

Germen, germinis,: a bud 

Gero, I carry, gestus, car- 
ried 

Gigas, gigantis, a giant 

Gigno, I beget, genitus, be- 
gotten 

Glacies, ice 

Glomus, glomeris, a clew 

Gluten, glutinis, glue 

Gradior, I go, gradas, a 
steep, gressus, having 
gone 

Gramen, graminis, grass 

Grandis, great 

Gratia, favour 

Gratus, grateful, agreeable 

Gravis, heavy 

Grex, gregis, a flock 

Gusto, I taste 

Habeo, I have, habitus, had 

Haereo, I stick, haesus, 

stuck 
Haeres, haeredis, an heir 
Halo, I breathe 
Haurio, I draw, haustus, 

drawn 
Herba, an herb 
Hilaris, cheerful 
Histrio, a player 
Homo, a man 
Hora, an hour 
Hortor, I exhort 
Hospes, hospitis, a guest 
Hostis, an enemy 
Humidus, moist 



gervb 
genu 
gener^ genera 

germin 
ger^ gest 

gigan 
gen, genii 

glad 
glomer 
glutin 

grad^ gred^gradu, 
gress 

gramini 
grandi 
graty gras 

grai 
grav 
greg 
gust 

habit, hibit 
her, lies 

Tiered, herit 

hat 

haust 

herb 
hilar 
histrion 
homi, hum 
hor, horo 
hart ^ 
hospit 
host 
humid 



Example. 
frigidi, re/rt^eration 
frontis^iQQQ, sSfront 
fructiij 
/rwition 
frustr2XQ 

TofugQ, fugitivQ 

refulgent 
fulminsitQ 

per/tiwie, fumigaie 
function 

refund, fusible, infuse 

fundamenta.!, profound 

gdllinsLceoua 
congelation, congeal, grd- 

^inous 
genlUe 
genwOe-xion 
degenerate, geTiera 

germin&te 
belligerent, gesture 

gigantic 

-progeny, -progendtor 

glacial, glacier 
ag^ZoTTieration 
glutinovi?> 

retrograde, in^re^ient, 
graduate, aggrression 

graminivorons 
grandHoQ^ent 
grra^itous, ingratiate, 

grace 
gratitude, in^ra^e 
^rravity 

grre^arious, e^rre^ous 
^gust 

habit, inhabit, exhibit 
adAere, co^sion 

heredit&ry, inherit 
exhale, exA«Zation 
Gx.?iaust 

herbal, ^rJivorous 

exhilarsite, hilanty 

histrionic 

homicide, humsLn 

^ral, horologe 

exhort 

h^sjntahle 

hostile 

humid, humidity 

p2 



HUM 



326 



IIB 



Boot and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Humus, the ground 


hum 


inhumation, post^wwious 


Idem, the same 


iden 


identity 


Ignis, fire 


ign 


ignition, igneous 


Imago, imaginis, an image 


imag^ imagin 


image, iTnaginsiiion 


Imperium, power or gov- 


imper 


imperial 


ernment 






Index, indicis, a discoverer 


indie 


indicate 


Infra, below 


infem 


infernal 


Initium, a beginning 


initi 


initiate 


Insula, an island 


insula^ insul 


yenin^da, insulate 


Integer, entire 


integr 


integrant 


Intra, intus, within 


inter, inti 


internal, intimate 


Ira, anger 


ir, ira, irr 


ire, irascible, tVritable 


Iter, itineris, a journey 


itiner 


itinerate 


Iterum, again 


iter 


iteration 


Itum, to go 


it 


ex.it, circuit, transit, se- 
dition 


Jaceo, I lie 


jac 


adjacent 


Jactus, thrown (jectus when ject 


inject, conjecture 


compounded) 






Janua, a gate 


jan 


janitor 


Jubilum, a shout of joy 


jvhil 


jubilee 


Judex, judicis, a judge 


judic 


judicial 


Jugum, a yoke 


m 


conjugate 


Junctus, joined 


junct 


adjunct, conjunction 


Juro, I swear 


JF\ 


conjure 


Jus, juris, right, law 


juris, juri 


jMn^diction, juridical 


Jutus, assisted 


jut 


adjutant, coadjutor 


Juvenis, a youth 


juven 


juvenile 


Lac, lactis, milk 


lact 


lacteal 


Lacer, torn 


lacer 


lacerate 


Laedo, I hurt, laesus, hurt 


lid, lis 


collide, collision 


(lido and lisus when com- 
pounded) 
Lambo, I lick 






lamb 


lambent 


Lamina, a thin plate 


lamina 


lamindble 


Lapis, lapidis, a stone 


lapid 


lapidary, dilapidate 


Lapsus, having slid 


laps 


relapse, collapse 


Latus, carried 


lat 


elation 


Latus, wide 


lat 


dilate 


Latus, lateris, a side 


later 


lateral 


Laus, laudis, praise 


laud 


laudable, laudatory 


Lavo, I wash, lotus, washed lav^ lot 


lave, lotion 


Laxus, loose 


lax 


relax 


Legatus, an ambassador 


legat 


delegate 


Lego, I bequeath 


leg 


legacy 


Lego, I gather, I choose, 


leg, lect 


allege, collect 


lectus, gathered 






Lenis, gentle 


len 


lenity 


Lentus, gentle 


lent 


relent 


Lethum, letum, death 


leth, let 


lethal, letal 


Levis, light 


lev 


levity 


Levo, I lighten, I lift up 


lev 


elevate, lever 


Lex, legis, a law 


legis, leg 


legislator, legal 


Liber, a book 


libr 


library 


Liber, free 


liber 


liberty, liberal, libertine 


Libra, a balance 


libr 


Itbration, equilibrium 



Lie 



327 



unx 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Licet, it is lawful 


licit 


illicit 


Lignum, wood 


lignum^ lign 


lignumy'itss, ligneous 


Ligo, I bind 


lig, liga 


oblige, ligament 


Linea, a line 


linea 


lineament 


Linquo, I leave, lictus, 

left 
Liqueo, I melt 


linquy lict 


Tolinquish, relict 


lique 


liquefsiction 


Lis, litis, strife 


liti 


litigiovis 


Litera, a letter 


liter 


literal, ZiYerature 


Locus, a place 


loco^ loc 


locomotion, locality 


Longus, long 


long 


elong&te, Zon^itude 


Loqui, to speak 


loqui, loquy, loqu 


, colloquial, obloquy, lo- 




locu 


quacitj, ventriZo^^wist, 
eZocwtion 


Lucrum, gain 


lucr 


Zwcj-ative 


Luctor, I struggle 


luct 


reluctant 


Ludo, I play, lusus, de- 


ludi, Ivs 


ludicrous, illusion 


ceived 






Lumen, lumTnis, light 


lumin 


luminary- 


Luna, the moon 


lun 


lunatic, subZttwary 


Luo, I wash 


lu, luty luv 


abZwent, diZw^e, alZwvial 


Lustro, I purify 


lustr 


licstre, lustration, Ulus- 
trate 


Lux, lucis, light 


luc 


ludd 


Macies, leanness 


mad 


emaciate 


Macula, a spot 


macid 


immaculate 


Magnus, great 


magni 


magnify 


Major, greater 


major 


majority 


Mal^, wickedly 


male, mal 


malevolent, 77<o7versation 


Malleus, a hammer 


mall, maXle 


mallet, malleable 


Mamma, a breast 


mamma, mammi 


mammalia, mammiierous 


Mando, I bid 


mand 


command, mandate 


Mando, I chew 


mxind 


mandible 


Maneo, I stay 


man, main 


]^ermanent, remain 


Mano, I flow 


man 


emanate 


Manus, a hand 


manu, mani 


manual, manii^xilation 


Mare, the sea 


mar 


wia?iDe, Twaritime 


Mars, martis, the god of 


mart 


martial 


war 
Mater, matris, a mother 


mater, matri 


maternal, matricide 


Matui'us, ripe 


matur 


maturity 


Medius, middle 


medi 


mediator, medium 


Mel, mellis, honey 


melt 


TTieZZifluous 


Melior, better 


melior 


aweZiorate 


Memor, mindful 


memor 


memorable 


Mens, mentis, the mind 


ment 


mental 


Mergo, I plunge, mersus, 


merg, mers 


emerge, imTTiersion 


plunged 






Meritus, deserved 


merit 


meritorious 


Merx, mercis, merchandise 


mere 


commercial 


Metior, I measure, mensus, 


met, riiensu 


mete, commensurate 


measui-ed 






Migro, I remove 


migr 


migrate 


Miles, militis, a soldier 


milit ^ 


militant 


Mille, a thousand 


mill 


millenmujn 


Minister, a servant 


minister, ministr 


administer, administraiion 


Minor, less 


minor 


minor, minority 



MIN 



328 



ODO 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Minuo, I lessen 


minuj min 


diminution, diminish 


Miror, I gaze 


mir 


mirror, admire 


Miser, wretched 


miser 


miserable 


Mitis, mild 


miti 


mitigaitQ 


Mitto, I send, missiK, sent 


mitj rmss 


remit, missionary 


Modus, a measure 


mod 


mode, modify 


Mola, a millstone, flour 


mx)l 


CTwoZument 


Moles, a mass 


mol 


moZest, demoZish 


Mollis, soft 


moUi 


emollient, mollify 


Moneo, I warn, monitus. 


mouj irwnit 


adTTwmish, monitor 


warned 






Monstro, I point out 


monstr 


demoTisfrate 


Mors, mortis, death 


mort 


mortify, immorfal 


Mos, moris, a manner 


mor 


moral 


Moveo, I move, motus, 


m/)Vy mot 


immovable, remote 


moved 






Mucus, slimy matter 


mud 


mi^o»laginous 


Multus, many 


multi 


multiforai 


Munitus, fortified 


munit 


munition 


Munus, muneris, a gift 


muner 


remunerate 


Murus, a wall 


mur 


immwre 


Muto, I change 


mut 


mwfeible 


Nasus, the nose 


nas 


nasal 


Natus, born 


nat 


native, natal 


Nausea, loathing 


nause 


nattseous 


Navis, a ship 


nav 


navdX, navigate 


Necto, I tie, nexus, tied 


nectj 7iea> 


connect, annex 


Nego, I deny 


neg 


negative 


Nervus, a sinew 


new 


enervate 


Neuter, neither 


neuter^ neutr 


neuter, neutral 


Niger, black 


negro 


negro 


Nihil, nothing 


nihil 


SLnnihiMe 


Noceo, I hurt, nocens, 


nocuy nocen^ nex 


innocuous, innocent, nox- 


hurtful 




ious 


Nodus, a knot 


nod 


node 


Nomen, nominis, a name 


nomin 


denominate 


Non, not 


non 


nonentity 


Norma, a rule 


norm 


enormous 


Nosco, I learn, notus. 


nosc^ not^ niz^ nit 


cognoscible, notify, cog- 


known 




nizance, recognition 


Novus, new 


nov 


innovate, Tiovice 


Nox, noctis, night 


nox^ noct 


equiTioa;, nocturnal 


Nubo, I marry, nuptus, 

married 
Nudus, naked 


nvh^ nupt 


connw^ial, niipiials 


nud 


denize 


Nugae, trifles 


nug 
nut, nulli 


m^^ratory 


Nullus, none 


annul, nullify 


Numerus, a number 


numer 


numeration 


Nuncio, I tell 


nunci^ nounc 


annMnciation, renown<» 


Nutrio, I nourish 


nutri 


nwfn'ment 


Obliquus, aslant 


ohliqu 


obliquity 


Oblivio, forgetfulness 


ohliixi 


oblivion 


Occultus, hidden 


occult 


occult 


Octo, eight 


act 


octagon 


Oculus, the eye 


ocul 


oculist 


Odium, hatred 


odium, odi 


odium, odious 


Odor, smell 


odor 


odoriferous 



OFF 



329 



PIO 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Officium, duty 


r 


official 


Oleo, I smell 


oTfactory, redoZent 


Omnis, all 


omm 


ommpotent 


Onus, oneris, a burden 


oner 


cwerous, exonerate 


Opacus, dark 


opac, opaqu 


opacity, opaque 


Opto, I vnsh 


opt 


didiopt, option 


Opus, operis, a work 


cper 


qperose, operation 


Orbis, a circle 


orhi 


orbiculaLT 


Ordo, ordinis, order 


ordj or din 


ordsiin, ordinaxj, subor- 

dinaXe 
oriental 


Oriens, orientis, rising, 


orient 


eastern 






Orno, I deck 


om 


adorw, oniament 


Oro, I beg 


ora 


inexorable, orator 


Os, ossis, a bone 


OSS 


ossify 


Os, oris, the mouth 


or 


oral, ado?*ation, orifice 


Oscillum, a moving back- 


osciU 


oscf^ate 


wards and forwards 






Otium, ease 


oti 


otiose, negotiate 


Ovum, an egg 


ov 


oval, o«;iform 


Pactus, having bargained 


pact 


com^^ac^ 


Pando, I spread, passus or 


pandj pass J pans 


expand, compass, ex- 


pansus, spread 




panse 


Par, equal 


par 


parity 


Pareo, I appear 


par 


apjparent 


Pario, I produce 


par ^ 


parent, viviparous 


Paro, I prepare 


par, pair 


re^a?'ation, lepair 


Passer, a sparrow 


passer 


passerine 


Pastus, fed 


past 


pastOT 


Pater, patris, a father 


pater, patri, parri paternal, patrimonj, pajr- 


Patior, I suffer, passus, 


patiypass 


patient, passive, passion 


having suffered 






Patria, one's native coTintry patri 


patriot 


Pauci, few 


pauci 


paucity 


Pauper, poor 


pauper 


pauperism 


Pax, pacis, peace 


pad 


paafic 


Pecco, I sin 


pecc 


impeccable 


Pectus, pectoris, the breast 


pector 


expectorate 


Peculium, property 


pecul 


p>ecwZation 


Pecunia, money 


pecuni 


p>ecim^ary 


Pellis, a skin 


pelli 


pellicle 


Pello, I drive away, pulsus, 

di'iven 
Pendo, I hang, I weigh, 


pel,pvXs 


e^pel, lepulsion 


pendjpens 


depend, pendulum, sti- 


pensus, hung, weighed 




pend, pensive, compenr 
sate 
peninsula 


Pene, almost 


pen 


Perditus, lost 


perdit 


perdition 


Perior, I try, peritus, skilled per^ pert 


experiment, enpert 


Pes, pedis, the foot 


ped 


hiped 


Pestis, a plague 


pest 


pestifevous 


Peto, I seek, petitus, sought pet, petit 


centrpe^l, competition 


Pingo, I paint, pictus, paint, pict 


paintev, depict 


UeU.lJ.tcLl 

Pio, I worship, I appease 


, pia,piat 


piacular, enpiate 



piatus, appeased 



PIS 



330 



RAT 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 




Piscis, a fish, piscor, I fish 


pisca 


piscatory 


Pius, pious 


pi, pie 


pious, piety 


Placeo, I please 


plac 


placid 


Placo, I appease 


plac 


implacable 


Plaudo, I applaud 


plaud, plans 


SL^plaud, wpplause 
ptebQiam 


Plebs, the common people 


pleb 


Plenus, full 


plen 


replenish, plenitude 


Pleo, I fill, pletus, filled 


ply.plet 


supply, complete, expfe- 

tive 
complex 


Plexus, twisted 


plex 


Plico, I fold 


plic 


complicate 
deplore 


Ploro, I wail 


plor 


Plumbum, lead 


plumb, plum 


plumber, plummet 


Poena, punishment 


pen, pun 


penaX, im^wwity 


Pono, I place, positus, 

placed 
Populus, the people 


pon, poSy posit 


depone, impose, positiou 


popul 


popular 


Porto, I carry, porta, a 

gate 
Potens, potentis, powerful 


port 


export, portable, portal 


potent 


potentate, -plenipotentiaxj 


Poto, I drink 


pot 


potion 


Praeda, plunder 


preda 


predatory, deprecation 


Pravus, wicked 


prav 


depravity 


Precor, I pray 


prec 


deprecate 


Prehendo, I take, prehen- 


prehend, prehens 


SLippr^nd, compreJten- 


sus, taken 




sion 


Pretium, a price 


preci 


SLpprecisite 


Primus, first 


prim 


primary, prime\a\ 


Privo, I take away, priva- 


priv, privai 


deprive, privation 


tus, taken away 






Probo, I prove 


prob 


probable 


Probus, good 


prob 


probity 


Proprius, one's own 


propri 


appropriate 


Pudens, pudentis, bashful 


pudent 


impudent 


Puer, a boy 


puer 


puerile 


Pugna, a fight 


pugn 


pugnacious, impugn 


Pulvis, pulveris, dust 


pulver 


pulverize 


Punctum, a point 


punct 


punctvLation 


Pungo, I prick 


pung 


pungent 


Puto, I lop, I think 


put 


amputate, repwtetion, dia- 
pute 


Putris, rotten 


putr 


putrefaction 


Quaero, I ask, quaesitus 


, guir, quest, guisit, mguirQ, inguest, requisi- 


sought 


quer 


tion, query 


Quassus (cussuswhen com- 


■ cuss 


discuss 


pounded) shaken 






Quatuor, four 


guadr 


guadranglQ 


Queror, I complain 


quer 


qtterulous 


Quinque, five 


quingu 


quinquennial 


Radius, a ray 


radius, radi 


radius, radiate 


Radix, radicis, a root 


radic 


radical, eradicate 


Ramus, a branch 


ram 


ramification 


Rapio, I seize, I carry off rap^ rapt 


rapine, rap^re 


by force, raptus, seized 






Rarus, thin 


rar 


rarity, rarefy 


Rasus, scraped 


ras 


rasor, erase 


Ratio, rationis, reason 


ration 


ratioml 



REC 



331 



SIM 



Root and Meaning. 
Recens, recentis, new 
Rectus, straight 
Rego, I rule, rectus, ruled 
Res, a thing 
Rete, a net 
Rideo, I laugh at, risus, 

laughed at 
Rigo, I water 
Robur, roboris, strength 
Rodo, I gnaw, rosus, 

gnawed 
Rota, a wheel 
Rotundus, round 
Rumen, rummls, the throat 
Ruptus, broken 
Rus, ruris, the country 
Sacer, sacred 
Sagus, wise 
Sal, salt 
Salio, I leap, saltus, leapt 

(silio and sultus when 

compounded) 
Salvus, safe 
Sanctus, holy 
Sanguis, sanguinis, blood 
Sanus, sound 
Sapio, I taste (sipio when 

compounded) 
Satis, enough 
Satur, full 
Saxum, a rock 
Scando, I climb (scendo 

when compounded) 
Scindo, I cleave, scissus, cleft 
Scio, I know 
Scribo, I write, scriptus, 

written 
Scrutor, I search diligently 
Sculptus, carved 
Scui-ra, a scoffer 
Seco, I cut, sectus, cut 
Sedeo, 1 sit, sessus, sat 

Semen, seminis, seed 
Semi, half 
Senex, senis, old 
Sentio, I feel, sensus, felt 
Sepelio, I bury, sepultus, 

buried 
Sequor, I follow, secutus, 

having followed 
Servo, I preserve 
Sidus, sideris, a star 
Signum, a mark, signo, I 

mark 
Silva, a wood 
Similis, like 



Representative. 


Example. 


recent 


recent 


recti 


rectilineaX 


reg^ red 


regal, rector 


re 


real 


red 


reticulate, retinsi 


rid, ris 


deride, risible 


rig 


irrigaite 


rdbor 


corroborate 


rod, ros 


corroc?e, corrosion 


rota 


rotation 


rotund 


rotundity 


rumin 


ruminaie 


rupt 


bankrM2?f, eruption 


rus, rur 


rustie, rural 


sacri, seer 


sacrifice, consecrate 


sag 
sal 


sage 
saline 


salt, sault, sil, 


salient, assault, resile^ 


suit 


insult 


salv 


salva.tion 


sanct 


sanctify 


sanguin 


sanguinary 


san 


sane, insanity 


sap, sip 


sapid, insipid 


satis, sati 


satisfy, sati&te 


satur 


saturate 


saxi 


saxifrage 


scend 


ascend 


scind, sciss 


rescind, rescissory 


sci 


science, prescience 


scrib, script 


inscri&e, scripture 


scrut 


scrutiny, inscrwfable 


sculpt 


sculpture 


scurr 


scurrility 


seg, sect 


segment, dissect 


sed, sid, sess 


sedentary, assiduous, 




session 


semin 


disse?7imate, seminary 


semi 


semicircle 


seni 


senility 


sent, sens 


sentient, sensation, disseti 


sepul, sepult 


sepulchre, sepulture 


sequ, secut 


suhsequent, persecM^e, 




execw^e (ec-sec«^e) 


serv 


obsen;e 


sider 


sidereal 


sign ^ 


designate, signify 


silv 


silvan 


simil 


similar, stmilitude 



SIM 



332 



SUM 



Root and Meaning. 
Simul, at the same time 
Simulo, I feign 
Sisto, I stop 
Socius, a companion 
Sol, the sun 
Solor, I comfort 
Solus, alone 
Solvo, I loose, solutus, 

loosed 
Somnus, sleep 
Sono, I sound 
Sopor, soporis, a deep sleep 
Sorbeo, I suck in, sorptus, 

sucked in 
Sors, sortis, a lot 
Sparsus, spread (spersus 

when compounded) 
Spatium, space 
Species, a form 
Specio, I see, spectus, seen 
Specula, a watch-tower 
Spero, I hope 
Spiro, I breathe 

Spolio, I plunder, spoliatus, 
plundered^ 

Spondeo, I promise, spon- 
sus, promised 

Spontis, of one's o^yn ac- 
cord 

Stagnum, standing water 

Statuo, I set up, I appoint, 
statutus, appointed (stituo 
and stitutus when com- 
pounded) 

Stella, a star 

Sterilis, barren 

Stillo, I drop 

Stimulus, a spur 

Stinguo, I put out, stinctus, 
extinguished 

Stipula, a straw 

Stirps, the trunk of a tree, 
offspring 

Sto, I stand, stans, stand- 
ing, statum, to stand 

Stringo, I bind, strictus, 
bound 

Struo, I pile up, structus, 
piled up 

Stultus, a fool 

Suadeo, I advise, suasus, 
advised 

Suavis, sweet 

Summus, highest 

Sumo, I take, sumptus, 
taken 



Representative. 
simul 
simul 
sist 
sod 
sol 
sd 

sol^ soli 
solv, solu^ solut 


Example. 
sm^Ztaneous 
disdmulaXion 
desist 
sodal 

solsiY, soZstice 
console 

sole, solitvLde, soliloapj 
dissolve, soluble, sotutioji 


somni 


somniferous 


son 
sopor 
sorb, sorpt 


sonorous 
soporific 
absor&ent, absorption 


sort 
spers 


assort 
disperse 


spati, spac 
sped 

sped, sped 
specul 
sper, spair 
spir 


e^patisite, spacious 

sped^e 

specious, aspect 

specM?ate 

desperate, despair 

resptV-ation, expire (ee- 


spoils spoliat 


spire 
despoil, spoliation 


spond, spons 


respond, response 


spont 


spontaneous 


stagn 

statu, statut, stitx 
stitut 


stagn2int, stagnsdion 
, statiie, statute, constitu- 
ent, substitute 


SteU 

steril 

stil 

stimul 

stinguj stinct 


constellsdion 
sterile, sterility 
distil 
stimulate 
extinguish, extinct 


stipul 
stirp 


stipulsite 

extirpate {ec-stirpaie) 


statj stant, stic 


stature, distant, solsticQ 


string, strict 


astringent, restrict 


struct, strue, stroy structure^ construe^ dO' 

stroy 
stulti stultify 
suad, suas dissuade^ perswasive 


suav 
summ 
sum, sumpt 


suavity 

summit, conswmwation 

asswme, consumption 



ST5R 



333 



VAL 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Surgo, I rise, surrectus, 


swg^ surrect 


msurgQzit, resurrection 


risen 








Tacitus, silent 




tacit 


tacit, taciturn 


Tango, I touch, 


tactus. 


tang^ tig^ tact 


tangent, eontigaons, con- 


touched 






tact 


Tardus, slow 




tard 


retard 


Tego, I cover, tectus, cov- 


teg, tect 


in^e^rument, ^protect 


Temno, I despise, 1 

despised 
Tempus, temporis, 


temptus. 


temn, ternpt 


contemn, confeTw^^ible 


time 


tempor 


temporal, eontemporsLry 


Tendo, I stretch. 


tentus, 


tend, tent, tens 


distend, extent, intense 


stretched 








Teneo, I hold, tentus, held 


tain, tin, tent 


contain, continent, de- 








tention 


Tenuis, thin 




tenu 


tenuity, SLttenuate 


Tepeo, I am warm 




tcp, tepe 


tepid, tepetsLCtion 


Terminus, a bound 


or limit 


termin 


termina.tion, interminSiblQ 


Terra, the earth 




terr, ter 


terraqueous, inter 


Testis, a witness 




test 


testify, attest 


Textus, woven 




text 


textnre, context 


ToUo, I lift up 




tol 


extol 


Torreo, I roast 




torr 


torrid 


Tortus, twisted 




tort 


extort 


Totus, the whole 




tot 


total 


Tracto, I handle 




tract 


tractahle 


Traho, I draw, 


tractus. 


trail, tract 


sub^roAend, extract 


drawn 








Tremo, I tremble 




trem 


tremendous, frcmulous 


Tributus, given 




tribui 


^striMte 


Tritus, rubbed 




frit 


trituxaiion 


Trudo, I thrust, 


trusus. 


trud, trus 


intrude, obtrusion 


thrust 








Tuber, a bump 




tuber 


•protuberajicQ 


Tubus, a pipe 




tub 


tube 


Tueor, 1 see, I pr 

look 
Turba, a crowd 


otect, I 


tuit 


tuition, intuitiYe 




turb 


turbulent, disturb 


Turgeo, I swell 




turg 


turgid 


Turpis, base 




turp 


turpitude 


Uber, fertile 




vher 


exuberant 


Ultimus, last 




ultim 


ultimate 


Umbra, a shadow 




umbra, umhr 


umbrageous, umbrella. 


Unda, a wave 




UTld 


inMTi^te, undnlsite 


Unguo, I anoint. 


unctus, 


ungu, uruA 


unguent, UTWtion 


anointed 








Unus, one 




un, uni 


unammous, uniform. 


Urbs, a city 




urbs, urb 


suburbs, urban 


Ustus, burnt 




ust 


comhusdon 


Utilis, useful 




uta 


utility 


Uxor, a wife 




uxor 


uosorious 


Yacca, a cow 




vacc 


vaccination 


Vaco, I am empty 


J vac 
'[vacu ^ 


?;acation, vacancy 
evacuate, vacuum 


Vado, I go 




vad, vas, wade 


invade, invasion, wade 


Vagor, I wander 




vag, vagr 


vagabond, vagrant 


Valeo, I am strong 




vol, vail 


prevalent, -prevail 
Q 



VAL 



334 



20N 



Root and Meaning. 
Vallus, a stake 
Vas, any kind of vessel 
Yasto, I lay waste 
Veho, I carry 
Velox, velocis, swift 
Venio, I come, ventus, 

come 
Ver, the spring 
Yergo, I incline 
Yermis, a worm 
Yema, a home-bom slave 
Yerto, I turn, versus, 

turned 
Yerus, true 
Yestis, a garment 
Yetus, veteris, old 
Yia, a way 
Yicinis, a neighbour 
Yideo, I see, visus, seen 
Yigil, watchful 
Vinco, I conquer, victus, 

conquered 
Yindex, vindicis, a defender 
Yiscus, visceris, a bowel 
Yiscus, birdlime 
Yita, life 
Yivo, I live 
Yoco, I call, vocatus, called 



Yolo, I will, I wish 

Yolo, I fly 

Yolvo, I roll, volutus, 

rolled 
Yoro, I devour 
Yox, vocis, the voice 
Yulcanus, Yulcan the god volcan 

of fire 
Yulgus, the rabble 
Yulsus, pulled 
Zona, a belt or girdle 



Representative. 


Example. 


vol 


interroZ 


vas 


vase 


vast^ waste 


'Uevast&tion, waste 


vehi, vey 


vehicle^ convey 


veloc 


velocity 


ven, vent 


conre?ie, Sidvent 


ver 


vernal 


verg 


diver^re 


vermi 


vermicular 


vema 


rer/iacular 


vert, vers 


revert, divers, versatile 


ver 


aver, verity 


vest 


vestaient, invest 


veter 


veteran 


vi 


obvmte, obvious 


vicin 


vicinity 


vid, vis 


yroyide, rmble 


vigil 


vigilant 


vinCf vict 


invincihle, victory 


vindic 


vindicate 


viscer 


visceral 


vise 


viscous 


vit 


vital 


viv 


vivid, survive 


voc, vok^ vocai 


irrevocable, revoke, vo€(»- 




tive 


vol 


voluntary, benevolent 


vol 


volatile 


volv, volut 


revo?ve, revoZt^don 


vor 


voracious, carnivorous 


voc 


vocal 


volcan 


voZcanic 


vulg 


vwZ^ar, divwZ^re 


wis 


convulsion 


zon 


zone 



.4 



335 



IV. GREEK ROOTS WITH THEIR ENGLISH 
REPRESENTATIVES. 



ADE 



EIR 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Adelphos, a brother 


adelph 


-philadelphisk 


Aethlos, a combat 


athlet 


athletic 


Agogos, a leader 


agogu 


demagogue 


Akouo, I hear 


acous 


a^xmstics 


Aner, andros, a man 


andria 


^andria 


Angello, I bring tidings 


angel 


eYangelist 


Anthos, a flower 


antho 


anthology 


Anthropos, a man 


anthrop 


^Mianthropy 


Archd, beginning, sove- 
reignty 
Arctos, a bear, the north 


arch 


heptarchy, archbishop 


arct 


arctic 


Aristos, best 


aristo 


aristocrat 


Arithmos, number 


arithm 


arithmetic 


Aroma, aromatis, odour 


aromat 


aromxitic 


Artos, bread 


arto 


arfocarpus 


Asphaltos, bitumen 


aspTialt 


asphaltic 


Asthma, breath 


asthma 


asthmatic 


Astron, a star 


astro 


astronomy 


Atmos, vapour 


atmo 


a^TTiosphere 


Autos, self 


auto 


autograph 


Bapto, I dip 


hapt 


baptism 


Bar OS, weight 


haro 


barometer 


Biblion, a book 


hiblio 


bibliogrsiphy 


Bios, life 


hio 


biography 


Bolbos, an onion 


bulb 


bulbons 


Bole, a casting or throwing 


Me, Ma, hU 


hypevholej -parabola, par- 

ahle 
chalybeate 
euc^arist, charity 


Chalyps, chalybos, steel 


chalyh 


Chans, charitos, grace, love cliar^ charit 


Cheir, the hand 


chir 


cAirography 


Chilioi, a thousand 


chUi 


chilisLd 


Chole', bile 


choU 


choleric 


Chroma, colour 


chroma 


achromatic 


Chronos, time 


chrorvo 


chronometer 


Chrysos, gold 


chryso 


chrysolite 


Daktylos, a finger 


dactyl 


dactyl 


Deka, ten 


deca 


decedogne 


Demos, the people 


dem^ demo 


epidemic, democracy 


Dendron, a tree 


dendr, dendron 


dendiitic, rhododendron 


Despotes, a lord or master 


despot 


despotic 


Doxo, I will think, dedog- 


dox, dogma 


orthodox, dogmatize 


mai, I have been judged, 






dox^, an opinion 






Dromos, a course 


drom 


hippoc?ro77ie, dromedaxj 


Drus, an oak 


dru, dry 
dynam 


druid, drya.d 


Dynamis, power 


dynamics 


Ecleipo, I fail 


eclip 


ecliptic, eclipse 


Eidos, a form 


eido 


kalewfoscope 


Eiron, a dissembler 


iron 


irony 



EPI 



336 



MAN 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Epitom^, an abridgment 


epitom 


epitomizQ 


Epos, a word 


ep 


epic, orthoepy 


Eremos, a desert 


erem 


eremite (hermit) 


Ergon, work 


ergy urg 


energetic, metallwr^ 


Ethos, a custom 


eth 


ethical 


Eu, weU 


6w, ev 


eulogy, evangelist 


Gala, galaktos, milk 


gcdax 


galaxy 


Gamos, a marriage 


gam 


higamy 


Gaster, the bellj 


gastr 


gastric, gastronomy 


Ge, the earth 


geo 


geography 


Geno, I produce 


gen 


oxygen, hydrogen 


Genos, kind or race 


gen 


heterogeneous 


Glossa, glotta, the tongue 


gloss, glot 


glossary, -polyglot 


Glypho, I carve 


glyph 


hieroglyphic 


Gonia, a corner, an angle 


gon 


-polygon 


Gramma, a letter, writing 


gram 


epigram, gram-mar 


Grapho, I write, graphs, a 


graph 


SLUtograph, hydrography 


writing 






Gyne, a woman 


ffyn 


monogynia,, miso^rynist 


Gyros, a circle 


gyr 


gyration 
hagiogra.phy 


Hagios, holy 


hagio 


Hecaton, a hundred 


heca 


hecatomh 


Helios, the sun 


helion 


a.phelion 


Hemera, a day 


hemer 


ephemeral 


Hemisus, half 


hemi 


hemispherQ 


Hepta, seven 


hepta 


heptagon 


Heteros, dissunilar 


hetero 


heterodiOJL 


Hex, six 


hexa 


hexagon 


Hieros, holy 


hier 


hierarchy 


Hippos, a horse 


hippo 


hippopotaxnxis 


Hodos, a way 


od 


exodus 


Homilos, an assembly 


homU 


homily 


Homos, similar 


homo 


homologous 


Hyalos, glass 


hyal 


hyaline 


Hydor, water 


hydro 


hydrostatics 


Hygros, wet 


hygro 


hygrometer 


Ichthys, a fish 


ichthy 


ichthyology 


Isos, equal 


ISO 


zsoperimetrical 


Kakos, bad 


coco 


cacophony 


Kalos, handsome 


Ml 


kaleidoscope 


Kalypto, I cover, kalypso, 


calypty calyps 


a.pocalyptic, ecpocalypse 


I will cover 






Kalyx, a rosebud, a cup 


calyx 


calyx 


Kardia, the heart 


cardi 


pericardium 


Karpos, fruit 


carpus 


aitocarpus 


Kauso, I will bum 


caustj caut 


caustic, cauterize 


Kephale, the head 


cephal 


hydrocephalus, cephalic 


Kosmos, the world, order 


cosm 


microcosm, cosmetic 


Kratos, strength 


cracy crat 


aristocracy, aristocraric 


Kyklos, a circle 


cycl 


epicycle 


Kyon (cyon), a dog 


cyn 


cynic 


Laos, the people 


lai 


laity 


Lithos, a stone 


litho, lit 


lithogra^phy, chrysolite 


Logos, a word, description 


logoy logy^ hgu 


logom&chy, chronology, 
ca.tsdogue 


Machb, a fight 


mach 


na-umachy 


Mania, madness 


mania 


maniac, bibliomania 



1 



MAE 



337 



SKO 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Martyr, a witness 


martyr 


martyrdiogy 


Mathetes, a scholar 


matJie 


mathem^aXics 


Mechanao, I invent 


mecTian 


mechanic 


Melan, black 


melan 


melancholy 


Metron, a measure 


metr, meter 


geometry, thermometer 


Micros, little 


micro 


microscope 


Misos, hatred 


mis 


misanthrope 


Monos, alone 


mono 


mowosyllable 


Morph^, shape 


morph 
mytho 


meta/TiorpZiosis 


Mythos, a fable 


mythology 


Naus, a ship 


naut 


nautical 


Nekros, dead 


necro 


necromancy 


Neos, new 


neo 


neology 


Nesos, an island 


nesus 


Felo^onnesus 


Nomos, a law 


nom 


a,stronomy 


Nosos, sickness 


noso 


nosology 


Od^, a song or poem 


ode^ od^ ed 


e^ode, episode, monody, 

com.edy 
antoeci, perioeci, paro- 


Oikeo, I dwell 


oeci, ochi 






chial 


Oikos, a house 


eco 


economy 


Oligos, little, few 


olig 


oligarchy 


Ophis, a serpent 


ophi 


ophiology 


Optomai, I see 


qpti 


optical 


Ornis, omithos, a bird 


ornitho 


ornitlwlogy 


Orthos, right 


ortho 


ortJwgraL^^hy 


Oxys, acid 


oxy 


oxygen 


Pais, paidos, a boy 


ped 


peda^gogue 


Pathos, feeling 


path 


apathy, antipathy 


Pente, five 


pent 


pentagon 


Petra, a stone 


petra^ petri 


petrology, petrifaction 


Phagein, to eat 


phag 


anthio^ophagi 


Phaino, 1 show, I appear 


phan^ phen^ fan 


phantom, plienomenon, 
/awtasy, fancy 


Phemi, I speak 


phem^phas^ phat^ blasp/iewie, Gmphasis^ em- 




phet^ phec 


phatic, -prophet, pro- 
phecy 
philosoiphy, philanthroj^y 


Philos, a friend 


philoj phil 


Phobeo, I terrify 


phdb 


hydrophobia. 


Phone, the voice 


phon 


euphony 


Phren, the nnind 


phren 


phrenology, phrenvy^ 


Phthongos, a sound 


phthong 


^phthong 


Physis, nature 
Polemos, war 


phys 
polem 


physical 
polemical 


Poleo, I sell 


pol 


bibliopoZe 


Polls, a city 


polls 


meitopolis 


Polys, many 
Potamos, a river 


poly 
potamus 


polygon 
hippopotamus 


Pous, podos, the foot 


pus, pod 


polypus, antipof?es 


Presbuteros, older 




presbyteriain 


Pseudo, I deceive 


pseudo 


pseudo-a.poBtle 


Pteron, a wing 


ptera 


aptera 


Sarks, sarkos, flesh, the sarco^ 


sarcophagus 


body 






Sbestos, extinguishable 


sbestos 


asbestos 


Sitos, com, food 


sit 


paiasite 


Skopeo, I see 


scop 


telesccpQ 



q2 



SOP 



338 



200 



Root and Meaning. 


Representative. 


Example. 


Sophos, wise 


soph 


5op7dst, -philosoph 


Stasis, a standing 


stas, Stat 


ecstasy, ecstotic 


Stello, I send 


sthy stal 


aposfZe, peristaltic 


Strepho, I turn 


streph 


peri5^rej?^ic 


Tele, distant 


teU 


telesco^Q 


Techne, art 


tecTin 


technical 


Thapto, I bury 
Theoreo, I see 


taph 
tKeor 


epitaph 
theory- 


Theos, God 


the, thus 


atheist, enthusisist 


Thermos, warm 


thermo 


thermometer 


Tithemi, I put, I suppose, 


thesis^ ihet 


hypothesis, hypothedcai 


thesis, a position 






Topos, a place 


topo 


topography 


Zoon, an animal 


ZOOy zo 


zoology, azote 



4 



339 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Figure 1 (page 4). 




Portion of seacoast exhibiting the stratification of rocks, — abcd^ 
and fghi, natural sections laid bare by the action of the weather, 
and showing various rocks superimposed in beds one above another. — . 
ade, an artificial section, showing that stratification extends through- 
out the unseen parts of the earth's crust, as well as the visible parts. 



Figure 2 (page 7)» 

The plant hearths-ease, designed to illustrate the organs of vegeta- 
tion and fructification. — a, the stem of the flower. — b, the roots. — c, c, 
the leaves. — d, d, d, d, smaller leaves or stipules. The angle e, formed 
by the junction of the leaf with the stem, is the ami. The stalk efffy 
springing from the axil, and supporting the flower, is the peduncle. 
— fy /? scales or bracts near the upper end of the peduncle. — g, the 
sepals or external green leaves of th^ flower, which, taken collectively, 
form the calj/x, — h, the petals, or yellow and purple leaves of the 
flower, of the same number as the sepals, but larger in sizCj which, 
taken collectively, form the corolla. — t, the stamens^ five thin pale 

q3 



340 



ILLUSTRATIOKS. 




yellow parts within the petals : They surround the pistil (k), a hol- 
low body tapering into a zigzag cone, and terminating in a globular 
head. 



Figure 3 (page 10). 

Mi 




Designed to illustrate the convexity of the earth's surface. — BCEF, 
the surface of the sea.— A, the position of a spectator on the coast, 
observing a vessel making out to sea. — AD, the horizon or line of 
, vision, below which the eye of the spectator cannot reach. 



.ILLUSTRATI0N3. 

Figure 4 (page 30), 



341 




This figure illustrates the leading steps in the process of blowing 
crown or window glass. 

After the compost of which glass is niade has been placed in a 
melting-pot, and reduced by heat to a liquid state, the workman takes 
an iron tube about six feet long, dips it into the pot of liquid glass, 
and gathers a sufficient quantity to form a sheet of glass. One 
man (a) then moulds the metal at the end of the tube into a regular 
form by rolling it on a smooth iron plate (6), while another (c) blows 
strongly through the tube, so as, by his breath, to expand it into the 
shape of a hollow pear (c?). The blower next proceeds to heat it at 
the furnace, and again blow it ; and between each blowing to press 
if against a bar (^), so as to form the bull's eye or centre part (/) of 
the sheet. When the glass has, by the dexterous management of 
this part of the operation, assumed a globular shape, it is rested on 
the casher-box (g), and an iron rod, called the punty-rod (h), on 
which a little hot metal has been previously gathered to make it ad- 
here, is attached to the flat side exactly opposite the hollow tube (i), 
while the tube is detached from the globe of glass, leaving a circular 
hole in the glass of about two inches in diameter. Taking hold of 
the punty-rod, the blower again carries the glass to the furnace, and 



342 



ILLUSTRATIONS, 



presents the aperture made by the separation of the tube to the heat 
until it is sufficiently ductile. He then whirls it round, slowly at 
first, and afterwards with greater rapidity, still keeping it at the 
furnace, until, by the glass yielding to the centrifugal force, the 
aperture gradually enlarges, and at last suddenly flies open with a 
loud ruffling noise like the rapid unfurling of a flag in a strong wind, 
and leaves the glass a circular plane or sheet (A:), about four and a half 
feet in diameter, of equal thickness throughout, except at the point 
called the bull's eye (/), where it is attached to the iron rod. The 
sheet of glass, now fully expanded, is moved round with moderate 
velocity, till it is sufficiently cool to retain its form. And, to make 
it ready for the glazier's use, it only farther requires to be tempered 
by being put for twenty-four hours in an annealing kiln. 



Figure 5 (page 33). 




A limestone cavern. — a, a, masses of limestone suspended from the 

roof, or stalactites b, b, masses on the floor, or stalagmites. — c, c, 

pillars of alabaster already formed. — rf, rf, e, e, pillars in the course of 
formation. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Figure 6 (page 40), 
b 



343 




This diagram shows, that lines which are perpendicular to the 
earth's surface cannot be strictly parallel. — sss, the surface of the 
earth. — C, the centre of the earth, where all lines perpendicular to its 
surface necessarily meet — as, bs, lines perpendicular to the earth's 
surface. 



Figure 7 (page 112). 




Centre of gravity.— G, G, g, g, the centres of gravity of the bodies.- 
^\ffd gd, the hnes of direction.— a6, H, inclined planes on which 
the bodies are placed. The cube will not roll down the plane, be- 
cause the line of direction falls wiihin its base; but the six-sided 
body wiU revolve, because the Une of direction falls bej/ond its base. 
The cart will be overturned, if it is top-heavy ; that is, if the centre 
ot gravity is as high as G' ; but it will move along the inclined plane 
without overturning, if the load is so disposed that the centre of gra- 
vity is kept as low as G. 



344 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Figure 8 fp'^^'e 116)« 

laiir 




illiilllitlll „„ipaalii 

The relative heights of the principal mountains in the world, viz. 
In Asia — 1. Highest peak of the Himalaya (Tibet), 28,177 

2. Ararat (Armenia), . . 17,230 

3. Peak of Lebanon (Palestine), . 12,000 

4. Olympus (Asia Minor), . . 9,000 

5. Sinai (Arabia), . . . 7,498 

6. Carmel (Palestine), . . 2,250 
In America — 1. Aconcagua (Andes), . . 23,912 

2. Chimborazo (Andes), . . 21,440 

3. Highest peak of Blue Mountains (Ja- 

maica), . . . . 7,278 ' 

4. Mount Washington (AUeghanies), 6,630 ' 



ILLUSTRATIONS; 



345 



In Africa — I. Highest peak of Atlas, ■ . 15,000 

2. Peak of TenerifFe, . . 12,230 

3. Table Mountain (Cape Colony), 3,582 
In Europe — 1. Mount Blanc (Alps), . . 15,732 

2. Simplon (Alps), . . 11,542 

3. Etna (Sicily), . . . 10,874 

4. St Gothard (Alps), . . 10,595 

5. Rusca (Carpathians), . . 9,912 

6. Olympus (Turkey), . . 9,754 

7. Parnassus (Greece), , . 8,068 

8. Hecla (Iceland), . , . 5,210 

9. Ben Nevis (Scotland), . . 4,368 

10. Vesuvius (Italy), . . 3,932 

11. Snowdon (Wales), . . 3,521 

12. Helvellyn (England), . . 3,055 

13. Benlomond (Scotland), . . 3,175 

14. Skiddaw (England), . . 3,038 



Figure 9 (page 139), 




The lever.~F, the fulcrum or prop on which the lever rests.— -W, 
the weight to be raised. — P, the power or force applied to the lever. 



Figure 10 (page 139). 




The wheel and axle. — W, the^ weight to be raised, which is at- 
tached to a rope coiling round the axle. — P, the power or force applied 
to the outer rim of the wheel. 



346 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Figure 11 (page 140). 




The single pulley. 
Figure 12 (page 140). 




The inclined plane. — AC, the plane. — AB, height of the plane. 



Figure 13 (page 140). 
A C B 




The wedge. — AOB, the wedge. — AB, back of the wedge. — AC, 
BO, the sides. 



■ '» 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Figure 14 (page 141), 

AN h iv 



347 




This figure illustrates the tendency of water to rise to its own level. 
The water stands at the level A, B, in both limbs of the bent tube 
ACDB, notwithstanding the difference of their width. 



Figure 15 (page 156). 




This figure illustrates the way in which springs are sometimes sup- 
plied from internal subterranean reservoirs of water, by the instance 
of an intermitting spring. 

A, a cavity in the earth containing water, which varies in quantity 
according to the percolation of rain through small fissures in the rocks. 
— B, the outlet of the cavity. — BCD, the natural syphon through 
which the water flows to the mouth of the spring at D. When the 
water rises to the level line AC, the spring will begin to flow, and 
will continue flowing till the whole of the water is exhausted, because 
the level of the outlet (D) is below the level of the bottom of the 
reservoir. 

q4 



348 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Figure 16 (page 166). 




This illustration is introduced to give the pupil an idea of the re- 
lative magnitudes of some of the principal planetary bodies, — their 
mean distances from the sun, — and the inclination of their orbits. 

The line in the margin, on the right hand side of the engraving, is 
the sun's semi-diameter. The eight figures adjoining, are eight of the 
principal planets according to their relative magnitudes. The two 
circles in the centre show the comparative size of the earth and moon. 
The lines on the left exhibit the inclination of the orbits of the 
planets, with their mean distances from the sun ; the horizontal line 
being the earth's orbit or plane of the ecliptic. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



^9 



Figure 17 (page 168). 







Jerusalem and its environs, intended to familiarize the pupil with 
the principal places mentioned in the text. 



350 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Figure 18 (page 174). 

Principle and constrnction of 
the barometer. — AB, a glass 
tube, upwards of thirty- two in- 
ches in length, open at A and 
closed at B. — GH, the same 
tube filled with mercury, and 
inverted into a cup, CD, also 
filled with mercury. The mer- 
cury in the tube, instead of all 
running into the cup, will re- 
main in the tube at the height 
of about twenty-nine inches 
above the surface CD, leaving 
the space HE, a vacuum, that 
is, emptied of air. - The reason 
of this is, that the weight of the 
air which presses on the surface 
CD, supports or balances the 
column of mercury EF. 



Figure 19 (page 196). 

The Heart. — In this illustration, the heart, which in man and all 
the higher animals is double, or consists of two parts, — one for the 
circulation of the blood through the lungs, — the other for the circula- 
tion of the blood through the body, is for the sake of distinctness de- 
lineated, first^ as if these parts were placed at some distance from each 
other ; and, second^ in their united form as they exist in nature, 

a, a, represent the two great veins : the superior, which orings the 
blood from the head and upper extremities, and the inferior, which 
brings the blood from all the lower parts of the body. These two 
veins meet at b, and pour their blood into the right auricle b. The 
right auricle opens into the right ventricle c, which is larger and more 
muscular than the auricle. From the right ventricle, the blood flows 
into the pulmonary artery d, by which artery, and its various ramifi- 
cations, it is carried all over the lungs, th»t it may be aerated or 
purified in that organ. 

From the lungs it is returned by the pulmonary veins to the left 
heart, being received there by the left auricle f. The left auricle 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



351 




352 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



conveys it to the left ventricle g, which propels it into the aorta or 

great artery h ; by which artery and its ramifications, it is conveyed 
to the extremities of the body, to be received by the veins, and again 
made to enter anew upon the same course of double circulation. 

In the drawing of the united hearts, «, a, represents the superior 

and inferior veins 6, b, the right and left auricles. — c, c, the right 

and left ventricles d, d, the aorta. — e, e, the pulmonary artery, with 

its branchings off into the right and left lungs. 



100- 



Figure 20 (page 208). 



-212 Water boils. 



78 



4?5 
36 

16 



—17 
—28 
—39 



hl74r Alcohol boils. 



ll^- Greatest natural heat. 
■98 Blood heat. 



61 



-51 1 




Mean temperature of 
July in England. 

J '\^''ater freezes. 
( Ice melts. 



[1-0 Zero, Fahrenheit. 
— 20 Strong wine freezes. 
— 39 Mercury freezes. 

I Q-^ Cold experienced by 

Captain Ross. 



Thermometer, with the mercury standing at mean summer heat, 
and a scale of the chief points of temperature useful to be remembered. 
On the right side, the scale is that of Fahrenheit : the corresponding 
degrees, on the left side, are those of the centigrade thermometer. 



ILt-USTKATIONS; 



35S 



Figure 21 (page 228). 
, b 




The first drawing under this head represents the cavity of the 

thorax or chest a, the sternum or breast-bone. — b, 6, the s'pine 

or back-bone. — c, c, the ribs, of which there are twelve on each side. 
Within, this cavity is divided into three large compartments by a 
lining called the pleura. In the largest of these is contained the 
right lung, in the smallest the hearty and in the third the left lung. 

The second drawing repre- 
sents the diaphragm during 
the act of expiration, as seen 
from beneath, and shows its 
extension from the sternum 
to the loins, as also its con- 
vexity towards the chest, 
and its concavity towards 
the abdomen. — a, the cen- 
tre of the diaphragm, which 
is of the nature of a ten- 
don. — 6, 6, its circumfe- 
rence, which is fleshy. — c, 
c, the lateral cavities of the 
chest in which the lungs lie. 
— dy the lower end of the 
sternum or breast-bone. — e, 
<?, the ribs. 




354 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 
Figure 22 (page 229). 




The first drawing under this head represents the stomach or organ 

of chymification. — a, the oesophagus 6, the cardiac portion. — c, the 

great or left extremity. — d, the small or right extremity. — e, the 
stomach tied at the pylorus. 

The second drawing 
represents the organs of 
chylification. — AA, the 
liver raised to show its 
upper surface. — B, the 
gall-bladder. — Cjthe sto- 
mach. — D, the situation 
of the pylorus. — DEH, 
the duodenum, or first of 
the small intestines. — F, 
the termination ofthe duct 
from the liver into the duo- 
denum: By this duct, bile 
is poured from the liver 
into the duodenum. — G 
F, the pancreas duct, by 
which a fluid is poured 
from the pancreas into the 
duodenum. (The pan- 
creas is not seen in the 
drawingjbeing situated in 
the back part ofthe abdo- 
men, between the stomach 
and the spine). — H, K, 
the convolutions of the je- 
junum and ileum, or continuation ofthe intestines. 




ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Figure 23 (page 236). 



355 




Top of the great pyramid at Djizeh. 



Figure 24 (page 237). 




Pompey's Pillar. 



3oG 



iLfcUSTRATlONS; 

Figure 25 (page 238). 




Exterior case of an Egyptian mummy. The case is made of 
wood, and contains the embalmed body within it. It is deposited in 
a tomb of the form of a chamber, and set upright (as in the figure), 
against the walL 



.:^m 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



357: 



Figure 26* (page 273). 




The first drawing represents a muscle. — A and B, the tendons 

A, the tendinous origin^ is attached to a fixed point of bone. — B, the 
tendinous insertion^ is attached to a part moveable by the contraction 
of the muscle. — C, the belly of the muscle, consists of fibres which 
are possessed of the power of contraction, and which thereby affect the 
various motions of the body. 




The second drawing, which is a section of the same muscle, shows 
the direction of these fibres. — A and B, the tendons, are on different 
sides of the muscle ; and the fibres run obliquely between them, by 

which means quickness and variety of motion are greatly promoted, 

points most important in all muscular action. 



Figure 27 (page 279). 




Refraction of light. — E, the eye of a spectator.—- F, the position of 
a fish in the water. — FBE, the rays from the fish to the eye of the 

spectator bent by refraction at B, the surface of the water F', the 

apparent position of the fish. — AF, its real depth in -the water. — '- 
A'F\ its apparent depth. 



358 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Figure 28 (page 281). 




Decomposition of the solar ray. — P, a prism of glass. — S, the sun's 
ray passing through an aperture in the window AB. — CEF, the 
ray, after passing through the prism, separated into the seven coloured 
rays. — V, the violet, or most refrangible ray. — R, the red, or least re- 
frangible ray. 



Figure 29 (page 288). 

A. 




The seasons. — N, S, north and south poles. — E, Q, the equator. — 
A, position of the earth at the spring equinox. — B, position at mid- 
summer. — C, position at the autumnal equinox. — D, position at 
midwinter. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Figure 30 (page 288). 



359 




Phases of the moon daring its monthly revolution round the earth. 
— S, the sun. — E, the earth. — A, B, C, D, F, G, H, K, the moon 
at successive points (octants) of her revolution, from A, new moon, 
to K, her last octant. — A', B', C, D\ F\ G\ R\ K\ the correspond- 
ing phases or appearances of the moon in these her successive octants, 
as seen from the earth. 



Figure 31 (page 295). 




This figure is introduced to show the manner in which the images 
of objects are impressed upon the retina. — AB, is the object ; and 
the lines represent the rays of light reflected from it into the eye. — 
A portion is intercepted by the iris. On the surface of the cornea, 
which is the transparent part of the" eye, the rays are in a certain de- 
gree refracted. Passing through the coat called cornea, they enter 
the aqueous humour. In their transmission through it, they pass 



/ 



lS60 



.ILLUSTHATIONS. 



is inverted 'Thetv /t "^ ^^> ^"'""'^ "P°" *« ^"i"'' «^ 

does no howler TwT "'•*' °'J'"' "^ represented on the retina 

experience' hat ;; s2 thWs"nr ^""""^ " *^ P°-' "^ ^abit and 

pointedin'oury es-efoer^ 'e J"' '" "'"'^' "°' ^' '"'^^ "^ 
It is nrnhpKV • 1' '^ "^^ *"^ Correcting the errors of sense 



Figure 32 (page 297). 




Th?fir t ,s th "f '' *;' ^''' ^^P^^^^"' '^' Mariner's Compass, 

lines dlwnf f ' '"^' '''"'''''^ '"'" '''■"y-two equal parts by 

S. tLi^t? I ''"'IV'"/'^^ circumference, called '^ij/i.™! 

„ ,?o *^'"'"^'^ls are subdivided into halves and quarters called 
Sofa^:::: ^"'LST^-^-/^. -^ the whole circ^umr^c^tt 
iol;.^twoof wl h P"""P''} P°i"'« -« called the Cardinal 

M pits Th t ' "pr^'-'r'^ °*''' "^^ -^^''^-^ *^ ^<"-''' »d 

north fste^P, ^i "". "^^ hand, when we look towards the 

names of hT h If ''' T*^ '** "PP"^"^ "'^ ^^^^ P°-' ' *e / 

names of the half-points and quarter-points being compounded c ' 
these, according to their situation, and represented by the'^inria le ) 



/ 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



361 



ters, as N. b. E. for north by east, &c. Under the card, along 
the north and south line, is fixed a small bar of steel, called the 
Needle, which being 'magnetized, or touched with a loadstone, ac- 
quires the peculiar property of pointing north and south, and conse- 
quently determines the direction of the other points of the horizon. 
The needle, having a small socket in the centre, is supported, along 
with the card, on the point of a fine steel pin, on which it turns freely, 
and the whole is enclosed in a circular brass box hung on hoops, to 
counteract the motion of the ship. 




The second figure shows the compass mounted in the box, the near- 
est side of which is represented as wanting, in order to show the interior 
arrangement. The sights are placed vertically on the rim GH of the 
basin. The sight A, which the observer looks through, is a piece of 
brass with a narrow slit. The other sight B, is directed towards the 
object ; down which slit passes a fine wire or horse-hair. There is a 
vertical line going down from B, which marks the degree on the rim of 
the card, when the card is stopped in an observation by a small lever 
connected with it. The compass-basin is supported by a semicircle 
of brass CD, passing below the basin, and screwed firmly to the bot- 
tom of the box ; and it is suspended horizontally by two opposite 
pivots, one of which is seen at a, passing from its sides into a hoop of 
brass EF, which hoop, by means of ^pivots from two extreme points 
c, is connected with and rests from the extremities of the semicircle 
5D, 



362 



ILLUSTRATIONS, 



Figure 33 (page 303). 




Insects in the larva, aurelia, and imago states. 



THE END. 



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